My Bella
by Krazyk85
Summary: "A million people in this world but only one that mattered to me and I wasn't allowed to have her." It's been three years since Bella walked out on Edward without a word. Then one day, he hears her voice on a public payphone in restaurant and it sets him on a path of a relentless obsession to seek answers from the one love that broke him. (based on Wicker Park).
1. Chapter 1

**February 14, 2014**

**2:05 PM**

**Franklin Street, Chicago, Illinois**

I heard her voice. Above the music and countless conversations between strangers, it was her voice. I knew it. It may have been three years and fourteen days since the sound invaded my thoughts, but it wasn't something I could easily forget. It was burned into my soul and had continued to haunt me every second of my pathetic life. I've driven myself crazy searching for her and that voice. Now it was here, in this restaurant, and within my reach.

But I was frozen, unable to breathe or move. I just listened.

"This has gone too far, do you hear me? You can't keep doing this."

The wall between me and that voice couldn't disguise its frantic tenor. She was scared. I ached to hold her in my arms until the fear was gone. I willed my legs to move for the billionth time.

_Fuck!_

They refused. I tried over and over again, one step closer to the door.

"You have to leave me alone. It's over," she whispered the last bit before hanging up the phone.

My heart raced and my hands clenched. I'd been waiting for this moment for so long, needing to see her again, kiss those lips, and ask her that one question: why did she leave? Why did she disappear without a word and fucking gut me? I wanted those answers, but more than anything, I needed her.

I was starting to get feeling in my legs when the phone booth door slid open, but it was too late. She was gone by the time I skidded out of the bathroom. The scent of her perfume remained, and I followed it out into the crowded restaurant. Through the sea of people, I caught a glimpse of the top of her head as she rushed out into the street. I yelled out her name, weaving through bodies. I finally came to the entrance and shoved the door open. The cold Chicago air brought me back to reality.

She escaped me once again and vanished into thin air.

I gasped, feeling the pain, so close to mending, rip apart at the seams.

A million people in this world but only one that mattered to me and I wasn't allowed to have her. It was a cruel joke. And what killed me was the fact that I got a small taste of a one in a million kind of love. It wasn't enough to satiate the need or anything. It was just enough to get me hooked. Life now without it was like food without taste, sex without the orgasm, and music without the sound. It was an empty existence, but for years I deluded myself into thinking that was what I wanted and deserved. Things had changed. She was here. I heard her. I smelled her. Fuck, I could almost feel her. It was too late to rewind and go back. I couldn't even pretend to act like not living was better than being broken.

"Edward." There was a hand on my shoulder and I turned around. My best friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, Jasper, was staring at me. "Are you okay?"

I glanced in the direction of her fading scent. Gone and disappeared. All I smelled was fresh rain and asphalt. My hopeful heart plummeted. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

No, not really. I wasn't fine or okay, that was a lie. A lie I've been telling myself for years. Through years of denial and endless kisses to my fiancee, my pseudo life was starting to unravel.

One call, one voice, one girl had changed everything.

But Jasper didn't need to know how far down the rabbit hole went.

"Yeah, man," I put on the smile that no one questioned for three years, "of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"You just, I don't know."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

I laughed because he wasn't far off.

She's a Phantom.

This woman came in like a flash of lightening, illuminating everything in my life and disappearing within the next second, only to leave a cold darkness in her wake. It was brief, but her impact on my past was lasting. It shaped me into this man who loved without boundaries, fully and recklessly. When she left, I was destroyed, lost to the grief. It didn't matter who filled my bed at night, I was never able to get that part of me back. She may have been a voice in my head, a forgotten apparition, but her sudden emergence had steamrolled her ghost right back into my present. She was real to me now more than ever, and I knew there was no way hell I was going to let her slip through my fingers twice in one lifetime.

My mind was made from the moment I heard that voice.

I was going to find my Bella.

**A/N: So, I was watching Wicker Park (awesome movie, if you haven't seen it, you should) and needed something to get me out of my writing funk. I'm hoping the brief break from Chopping and Changing will get me inspired to write it again. As for now, I am doing this. It'll be close to the movie as much as possible. The plot and whatnot, but the rest will be mine, and I am sure it'll evolve into something else. It always does. If anyone is reading this, thank you, and let me know what you think.**

**And to my girl, Brina…you're as amazing and funny in person as I've always knew you to be. I had an awesome time with you and the girls (not your boobs, but Miranda, Jodi, Kristin, Dee, and Karen). I hope we can hang out again really soon. **


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

**January 3, 2011**

**10:30 AM**

**North Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"Do you see what I mean? I turn it on to take a picture and it turns back off. It keeps on happening. I can't even get my pictures out and blah, blah, blah."

I was listening. Well, maybe not. This was the fifth time she came in this week. A woman in her late sixties and technology challenged, I'd tried to fix the problem, but she didn't hear me. She would nod and promise to follow through, but go home and fuck shit up. It was getting exhausting, and in the last few minutes or so of her rambling, I'd suppressed, at least, fourteen yawns and five sighs.

It wasn't her fault. Some of it was, but not all of it. Monday's sucked.

The electronic store I worked for wasn't a Radio Shack or ran by some corporate asshole. It was small time, and owned by one family for over twenty plus years. It was eclectic, warm, and had an urban vibe to it. Unfortunately, in this day in age, people wanted everything new, and as a result the store was rarely busy. They had a good run for quite a number of years, and even continued to stay packed for several months after the Apple store opened up down the street. But things were catching up and they were finally losing steam.

I stuck around because cameras and photography was my passion. The quality products my boss provided couldn't be found in your average iPhone or iPad. Authenticity was key.

"Can you fix it?" She held out her piece of shit Kodak camera out me. You get what you pay for, but she didn't know the difference. It took digital pictures and was user friendly. That's all that mattered.

I rubbed the back of my neck and forced a smile. "Sure."

Leading the customer back to the counter, I overheard Esme, the co-owner of the store, grumbling. "Ugh, damn it! What is wrong with this thing?"

She wasn't tech savvy, not like me, but she did more than most and at least tried.

"You need some help there?"

She looked up at me with her brows bunched in frustration. "I can't seem to figure out why this thing doesn't have any sound."

I looked over at the 50 inch flat screen on my left, and the image displayed there knocked the fucking wind out of me. A woman with these wide brown eyes stared back. Everything in my world in that moment stopped. There was a brief moment of clarity, but masked with confusion from the lack of air entering my lungs. I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. This woman, whoever she was, was fucking stunning and unbelievably beautiful. I found myself drawn to her. My feet with a mind of their own were moving me closer and closer to the television until my face was an inch from the screen.

Where did she come from?

I watched this home video in silence. The camera followed her around the apartment as she read and tended to the windowsill flowers. They were daisies. Why did I know that? Then she laughed. I smiled, only for it to turn into a pained grimace within the next second as my stomache tightened.

Fuck me. I needed to hear it.

Esme's voice slowly came back to me. Each time she called of my name was louder than the last. "Edward, hello? Anyone home?"

I broke my gaze from the screen and back over at Esme, a sudden heat of guilt flooding to my face. "I'll take this one, if you want."

She handed over the camcorder. "Are you sure?"

Giving the brown-eyed beauty another, resolute glance. I nodded. "Yeah, I got this."

"Okay then." She patted me on the back. "Knock yourself out, kid."

Sitting down in her seat, I started the video from the beginning and ran it on a loop.

**January 12, 2011**

**12:17 PM**

**North Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

Nine days passed, and that woman with no voice but unforgettable eyes never left my thoughts. I'd watched those nine and a half minutes of footage over a thousand times. I knew the curve of her face so intimately. I saw it in my dreams every night. The freckles on her nose were my favorite. They stuck out like a sore thumb on her pale complexion. Then there was her hair, a thick, wavy reddish brown she'd worn to her shoulders.

Fuck, I watched that damn video way too many times. What was wrong with me? It wasn't healthy to be this fixated on a woman I'd never met. She wasn't real, in a way, and in the back of my mind, I knew this. But my denial was strong and I'd rationalized it with some bullshit about being passionate about my job.

Esme, eventually, had to intervene and take the project out of my hands when the problem wasn't being fixed. The camcorder's internal audio component was broken and had been sent out to the manufacturer for repair. It's been over a week and we were expecting it back today. The owner was called and she said she would be in today to pick it up.

Wednesdays were my day off, but I offered to come in and help out.

That was the story I was telling, but the truth was far more pathetic and creepy.

Luckily for me, they had a ton of work, but the day was moving by slowly. Picking up one of our newest items, I turned it on and began recording. I zoomed in on the aged buildings and random people walking on the street. It was pure and unadulterated voyeurism at its finest, and I watched through the lens as people went about their lives. You get the truth about someone when they don't think anyone was looking.

Roaming aimlessly, nothing really caught my eye, until she flitted into the frame.

It caught me by surprise and I pulled back from the camcorder and located her across the street with my own eyes. It took me a second to figure out what just happened. My mind was racing, and trying to keep up with the erratic pounding of my heart. Then it fucking hit me. She was real. The girl I'd been fucking obsessing over was within twenty feet of me.

She looked different somehow, and the distance irked me. I couldn't see the freckles on her nose.

I panicked then, bringing the camera back up to my eyes. I peered through the lens and zoomed in tight on her face. There were those freckles, and other things I hadn't noticed. Like the way she spoke with her hands or switched from foot to foot in an effort to stay warm. I even took note of her clothing, how off they were in color, but matched in a way that suited her.

I didn't know this woman, never even heard her voice, but everything she did enthralled me.

She smiled. I smiled with her. She laughed. I chuckled, as if I was in on the joke. And when she moved to clear a path for someone to get by, I stepped to the right to follow her.

I continued to watch her until she put her back to me and walked out of frame. Wait, what? Searching the streets up and down, I found her again, but she was leaving.

"Oh, shit!" I set the camcorder down and grabbed my jacket. I had two seconds to get my ass moving to catch up with her and I've already wasted half it.

"Edward? Hey! Where are you going?" Esme called after me as I dashed out of the store, nearly plowing down some innocent bystander.

I mumbled a half-assed apology and sprinted across the street. The woman with the red coat and yellow scarf led me through the city. She never saw me following her. I kept my distance, vaguely aware that I was stalking this woman. It was wrong, and I knew that, but I couldn't stop my pursuit. It was a compulsion, a need to know who she was. If anything, I was protecting her from the dangers of the city. Like a stalking body guard.

Okay, that was shit, and I conceded to the fact that I was fucking nuts. But she was safe. I would never hurt her.

So, with a semi-clear conscience, I followed close to keep her company. The bitter weather kept my face tucked tight into my chest, but my gaze never left her, and she never looked back.

The neighborhood was familiar to me. It was a mile away from Wicker Park and another mile from my apartment building. Why hadn't I seen her before last week? The city was massive, but surely I would've noticed her.

Maybe she just moved here. I didn't know. Everything before her was becoming a wasted blur.

When she reached her destination, I stopped in my tracks with surprise, but then everything fell into place. It all made sense.

_**Chicago Dance Academy. **_

**A/N: We'll see if I can keep up with this posting schedule. Hope you're liking the story. Let me know. See ya soon.**

**As always, thank you, B! I love you. **


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

**February 14, 2014**

**2:15 PM**

**Franklin Street, Chicago, Illinois**

I was going to give Jasper some bullshit excuse about forgetting a belonging of mine back at the hotel, but Kate exited the restaurant and ruined my plans of a quick escape. I cursed under my breath. It irritated me to see her there.

My fiancée.

The one reminder that my life without Bella continued.

I regretted every second of those days now, and was pissed at myself for not trying harder to bridge the gap. How far was Paris anyway? No amount of money or irrational fear should've gotten in my way of having what I wanted, but I was a young man and in love for the first time. My pride did me in. It kept me in Chicago; too stubborn to go chasing after her. She left me without so much as an explanation or goodbye. This woman, who grabbed my heart and fucking squeezed it, caused a pain that was irreversible. Being angry at her, fucking hating her, was far better than the alternative.

No, I refused to let her beat me down and opted for denial, but I couldn't stay here in Chicago. I needed to get the fuck on.

God knows Bella did.

Besides, if I continued to smell that damn perfume of hers in my house and see the mirage of her on these streets, I was going to blow God damn my brains out. It was a desperate jump from a broken man.

Moving forward and away from this city, these memories of her, was difficult, but I did it. But now the aftermath of my decisions was staring at me with these big blue eyes. Kate was the polar opposite of everything Bella was, and maybe that was why I sought her out.

Now I felt trapped.

This whole thing we had was a mistake. I was an idiot, knowing damn well that I should have never got involved with her. But I was alone and needed a distraction from the truth.

And after some time, it became a well established and elaborate lie. My words were carried no weight, telling her day after day how much she made me happy. It was only on the surface…this happiness. I had no idea what it meant anymore, but she believed me and my tepid touch.

Hell, even I convinced myself the shit I was spinning was the truth. It got me to put a ring on her finger.

"Edward…honey," Kate's voice was high, whiny, and not as low or sensual as Bella's, "is everything all right?"

I stared down at the diamond. It was massive; something I'd bought not because I felt it suited her, but because the store clerk said it was the best. The _best_…wasn't the best anymore. Kate wasn't the best.

I'm a bastard.

"Um, can you," I glanced back and forth between the confused faces of Jasper and Kate, "excuse me for…?"

The sentence wasn't out of my mouth before I was fleeing back inside and rushing to the phone booth where Bella was last seen. The scent of her was gone outside. She was slowly fading away. I couldn't let that happen.

Not again.

The desperation had taken the last bit of my sanity.

Pulling the door open, I shut it behind me and locked myself in the small confines of the four glass walls. Leaning against it, I inhaled her as deep as I could. It was sweet and floral. It was the same as I remembered three years ago. Nothing had changed. It was her…

_My Bella._

She would dance around me and the air would be saturated in that scent. I would watch her move elegantly around my apartment as I took pictures. She was my muse. All the beauty in this world lied within her. I was lucky enough to capture it…even if it was for a brief moment in time.

_Tap, tap, tap. _"Edward! Are you in there?"

My eyes snapped open and my whole body went rigid. Kate was at the door, heavy concern in her voice, but I doubt any of it was for me. My plane for China leaves in an hour, and Kate's father was depending on me to close the deal. It was a huge opportunity for us—for them. If my efforts were successful in landing the account overseas, the Advertising Agency I worked for would expand exponentially, and I would be promoted to Vice President.

It was something that I worked my ass off to get, but I wondered if part of the reason for this break was because I was about to marry the boss's daughter. That was the whispers around the office. I tried to ignore it, but fuck it, they were right.

More _tap, tap, tap. _"Edward?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." I bit the inside of my mouth. She couldn't leave me alone for one minute. "I'm just making a call." And then I pretended to pick up the phone.

"Don't you have your cell on you?"

_Shit!_

I wanted to bash my head in with the receiver. This was 2014, who in the fuck uses pay phones these days? I smiled, knowing only one person who would relish in the thought of being old school. But Kate was still knocking on the fucking glass and I knew my time was up. Standing straight, I turned to walk out when a newspaper caught my eye. It was folded on the shelf below the phone. I picked it up and a key card fell out to the floor.

_**The Drake Hotel.**_

This was my first bread crumb. A long shot, granted, but it was better than roaming all over the city shouting out her name. The sad part about that, I was pathetic enough to do it.

"Edward…"

I shoved the key card into my breast pocket of my jacket and slid the door open. Kate had her fist raised, poised to knock one more fucking time. Again, I forced my best smile and greeted her with a kiss on the forehead. She seemed perplexed by my sudden affection. I wasn't _that_ guy who enjoyed PDAs, and the last time I'd ever kissed someone in public was Bella. The last day I'd seen her. It had to be bad luck.

"Are we ready?"

Kate nodded slowly; still unsure of me and the tight grip I had on her hand. "The car is outside and Daddy has already paid for the check."

**February 14, 2014**

**3:20 PM**

**Chicago O'Hare Airport**

**Bessie Coleman Drive, Chicago, Illinois**

"You go there and knock em' dead, Kid. I trust you." Mr. Whitlock gave me a pat on the back. It was a last minute pep-talk, one I am not sure I even needed.

We've been hammering out the details for the past three weeks, what I would say and what point I would stress, but none of that shit mattered. It all depended on if Mr. Wong and company were interested in what I was selling. My ideas had little bearing on the outcome of this deal.

At this point, it was patronizing. Don't fuck it up was his general message.

I nodded and said, "I'll do more than my best, sir."

"I know you will." He gave another hard pat and a half-hearted smile. That was all. He got back into his limo and dialed up his stockholders. Money was about to come pouring in.

Jasper was more my speed, wishing me luck and actually meaning it. The best thing about marrying Kate was having him as family. I'd met him first in the line of Whitlocks when I applied for the job at his father's advertising company. It was our friendship that got me the interview, and then later, it was my relationship with Kate that got me hired as the lead executive in all the international accounts.

Was I lucky or cursed?

Either way, I didn't want to know.

"Thanks, man." I held up the newspaper left in the booth by Bella. "I've got something to do for the next fourteen and a half hours."

Kate laughed. "I don't think you'll be awake that long, sweetie."

It took me awhile, a lot longer than it should, to understand her meaning. Right before I went to the bathroom and heard Bella, Kate had handed me a sleeping pill to help me relax on the flight. It was a well known fact how much I hated flying. I was grateful for the gesture and swallowed it down without a second thought.

Now, like every other decision in my life, I regretted it.

"Well," I shifted my bag over my shoulder and took a step closer to TSA, "I better get going then."

Jasper said goodbye and headed out towards the waiting limo. It was Kate who stayed behind and followed me towards the gate. I sped through the terminal, and her heels clacked on the floor as she tried to keep up.

When we couldn't go any further, I turned around and looked at her one last time. She wore a black coat and pulled her blonde hair back into a tight bun. There was nothing colorful about her, maybe besides her lips. The red hue washed out her skin. Kate was a beautiful girl. I always thought so. But I couldn't dispel the memory of brown eyes and yellow scarves.

"So," I stuck my hands deep in my pockets and tilted back, already creating distance, "I guess this is it."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

It was barely convincing, even by my standards, but she never questioned it.

"Call me when you get there." She touched my cheek with her hand and it felt unnatural.

"Okay."

"I love you."

I've said it a million times to her, and I know at one point I've truly meant it, but like her touch, saying it now felt unnatural. It was a second, a long hesitation on my part, and all I managed to do was whisper it back. The kiss to her lips sealed the deal. Maybe it was a final goodbye, I didn't know what I was doing, but all I knew was my feelings for her and this life had changed.

"Bye." She waved, her eyes following me down the escalator until a solid concrete blocked her view.

I sighed. The extra pressure of acting like the man she knew was taken off my shoulders.

As soon as I reached the bottom floor, I went back up. My flight left in forty-five minutes, but I wasn't going to be on it. I glanced down at my watch and calculated the time in my head. It would be early morning in China and someone was bound be in the office by now.

Four rings later.

"Hi, yeah, I was just calling to let you know Edward Cullen won't be making the meeting with Mr. Wong tomorrow." I pushed open the door to the cold Chicago wind. "Cullen. C-U-L-L-E-N." My eyes searched for a cab on the busy streets when I saw Kate. "Shit!" I ducked behind the nearest wall and turned my back to her. I whispered, even if I knew she couldn't hear me. "Uh, yeah, no, he's not on the plane." I watched Kate drive off. I rubbed my forehead as my heart returned to its normal pace. Fuck, what was I doing? I was risking everything, but I couldn't stop. "He's sick…" more lies laced with truth, "…very sick. He's got food poisoning. He'll be there within the next couple of days."

I listened as my meeting was moved up to next Wednesday. They rescheduled my flight for Monday. That gave me two days to find her. Only forty-eight hours. I was running out of time.

"Thank you." I hung up my phone, and as I spun on my heel to hail a cab, I ran into another large chunk of my past.

"Edward!" The man smiling at me was not as skinny as he was three years ago, but he looked just the same.

"Emmett?"

**A/N: Here's the deal, ladies, since this twific is based on Wicker Park, Twilight characters will be used sparingly. The only true canon couple will be Edward and Bella. After all, this story is mainly about them. It's not a big deal, or at least I hope it's not, I just wanted to give you a heads up. And also, if you haven't watched the movie, I recommend that you don't. You'll enjoy it much more after this fic is complete. Which, I don't intend on making it a long fic. It'll be fifteen chapters at the most. Hold me to it, okay? As always, thanks for reading. I'll see you soon. **

**A special thanks to my girl, Brina! I miss you. **


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer and the movie Wicker Park. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**January 17, 2011**

**1:32 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

I threw the double doors open and found Emmett on his knees fitting a shoe on a customer. He saw me standing behind him in the mirror and narrowed his eyes. I didn't say a word, just gave him one firm nod and headed straight towards the backroom. The exultation of what I was feeling was making me antsy. For days I've been keeping this all to myself and it had built up to where I couldn't hold it in any longer. It needed to be released and fucking actualized. Who better to confess my sins to than my best friend since the fourth grade?

"There you are!" Emmett gripped my hand and jerked me into a hug. The kid was a lengthy little shit, and I had twenty pounds on him—easy—but he was strong, and I couldn't fight against him. I had yet to beat his ass in an arm wrestle. "Where you've been?"

_Stalking this girl…you know, the usual. _

Taking a step back, I ran my hands through my hair. I could feel myself losing my gull. The reality of what I've been doing was shameful. Well, more than that, it was fucking illegal.

Emmett didn't notice my hesitation, only my disheveled appearance. "You look like shit, my man. I hope she was worth it."

I haven't been able to sleep in days. All my thoughts were consumed with her. It wasn't healthy, not in the least, but it was a reflexive tick, like fucking breathing.

"Listen, Em, I need to talk to you, but you have to reserve all judgment, all right?" I paced the small, cramped space filled with towers and towers of women's shoes.

"Owe, that serious, huh? Who is she?"

_A goddess? An angel? Some woman I'm irrationally, insanely obsessed with?_

"You wouldn't believe it."

He was only half-listening. I could tell by his lack of focus on me and completely on the shelves. "Betcha I do. Hell, I probably even know her. What's her name? "

"That's the thing."

That surprised him. "You don't know her name?" I shook my head and he scoffed. "Oh, man."

"I know she's a dancer."

His eyebrows touched his hairline. "You mean, like a stripper?"

"No, shithead. Like a _real_ dancer."

The first day I followed her into the studio and watched her, something happened to me. It was abrupt and irreversible. Everything stopped as my perception of this world was permanently altered. She moved with an elegant grace, long legs, and fluidity that no woman around her, or before her, possessed. I felt something powerful and unexplainable in those moments as she danced. It caused my heart to sputter and my mind to go adrift.

I was mesmerized by her...And yet, still too much of a pussy to go up and introduce myself.

"Oh, man, I love a dancer's body." Emmett was making crude hand gestures and obscene expressions. "Ooh."

"But her face…her eyes…are like," I couldn't think of a description other than fucking amazing, heart-stopping nonsense, "…wha…and her skin is like…gah." God, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to kiss her lips. Then I patted my stomach, feeling those God-damn butterflies start that fluttering shit again. "She just makes me feel all…"

Emmett laughed. "She makes you what, more inarticulate than usual?"

I shrugged.

"You, my man, are obsessed, which I don't understand." He grabbed the shoes he was looking for and headed back out towards the front. "I mean, why focus on one woman with so many options out there? Like my customer, she has great legs, and my cashier, Jessica," he pointed and objectified, "there is something about her. Then there is the brunette in the window."

I glanced up to see the red coat and yellow scarf. Everything ceased. My back pressed up against the wall, I tried to breathe in deeply through my nose, but my fucking lungs were locking up on me. It was her, and those beauiful eyes flashed up to mine. It was brief, but we connected. She smiled and I froze, unable to do a damn thing.

Emmett looked back at me. "Eddy, what's wrong, you all right?"

"I…" My gaze never left her, until she opened the doors and walked in. I fucking panicked, right then and there, stumbling over my feet into the backroom.

Emmett followed. "You got a thing for the brunette, huh?"

There was a space between this rack of shoes that gave me a sense of obscurity, but still a decent view of the front of the store. That was where my stalking tendencies came in handy.

He laughed. "What are you doing now?"

She was here, more gorgeous than ever, and less than twenty feet away from me. I needed to stop watching her and go fucking talk to her. It was now or never.

"Em," I tossed my coat on the ground and held out my hand to him, "give me some shoes."

"Shoes?" It didn't take him long to catch on. He smiled and pulled down a random pair. "We've got lots of shoes. Here, our best seller."

"Thanks, man."

He gave me an encouragement pat. "Good luck."

I took a deep breath and fixed myself in the mirror in front of me. Fuck! Emmett was right, I looked like shit. My hair was an unusual shade of red today—and damn, when was the last time I combed it? Beanies were not an appropriate substitute for personal grooming. But whatever, can't dwell it now, the shit was a lost cause.

_It's now or never._

She was standing by the far wall of shoes with her back facing me. Her hair was wavy today. I noticed that first off. Then I took note of her boots. They were a black with a dull shine, like she had them for a long time, and they went up to her knees. A patch of silk ivory was showing between the hem of her coat and the top of her boots. It wasn't provocative in anyway, but fuck me if my mouth didn't go dry.

_Shit, shit, shit…_I needed to say something.

"Um," I leaned in close and cleared my throat, "can I help you?"

"Yes." She turned around, and those eyes, such a warm brown, burned into me. "The shoes in the window. The black ones with the red soles. I would like to try them on."

I caught a hint of an accent, Italian or French, maybe? Regardless, it made her ten times more interesting, and behind that sexy no bullshit expression of hers, I couldn't quite fathom how fucking beautiful she was— inside and out. All I could do was just stare at her lips as they moved, and try with all my might to keep my jaw from hitting the floor.

"Black and red. Got it. I'll go get them. They're in the back." I went to leave, but stopped to clarify. "Because that's where we keep them…" I held up the box in my hand, "…the shoes."

She nodded slowly.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

As I rushed to the 'back' to get these fucking 'shoes' because that's where we kept 'them', Emmett called out to me. "Eddy, you might want to ask the lady what size shoe she wears."

"Right." I spun back around and walked up to her. "What size shoe, ma'am?"

"Eight in a half."

I grinned. "Like Fellini."

"Right." She turned away offended, or bored. I couldn't tell.

I blathered on. "Like his movie, not his shoe size. I don't know his shoe size, obviously."

Again, she nodded slowly, as to appease me, but my attempt at flirting fell flat. Now I just felt like a dumbass, and salvaging this train wreck was going to be next to impossible.

"Eight in a half," I repeated. "I'll be right back."

When I got into the stockroom, I was in full on panic mode. I couldn't believe this shit. One shot, that's all I had, and what the hell was I doing with it? Insulting her, I guess. As if stalking wasn't bad enough.

"What was that?" Emmett came back a moment later.

"Fellini? What the hell was I thinking?"

He was a famous Italian director, which I thought she would get the reference, but that was an asshole assumption. Everything I've done thus far has been a disaster.

"I have no idea." Emmett shook his head and scowered the aisles. "But you were right about one thing. God, she's beautiful." He bent down and peeked through one of the shelves at me. "And you, my man, are an idiot."

I rubbed my forehead until that shit was sore. He was right. I was too fucking inept and my socialize skills with women were that of a prepubescent boy. It was embarrassing. And it wasn't like I hadn't talked to a woman before, I had, many times, but this one was different. Every intelligent thought left in my head vanished into thin air. She stupefied me. I needed to get my shit together—and fast!

"All right, since you've obviously blown it and she obviously hates you, how about you let the master take a shot at her?"

"Shut up. Give them to me." I snatched the box from his hands.

"Just remember, Eddy," Emmett squeezed my shoulder, "you're not funny."

Shrugging the asshole off, I took one last deep breath to calm my nerves, and walked out to her. My hands were shaking, but the box stayed steady. I can do this, I told myself over and over again.

She was seated on a circular sofa. One of her boots was off, showcasing her slender legs, and that chaste taste of her skin almost did me in. The pounding of my racing heart kept me focused as I counted the beats. One hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three, and one hundred and four, and then so on and so on.

"I've got them." I approached her, my voice coming out croaked and raw. "Black and red, just as you requested."

Her eyes stayed on me as I crouched down beside her and opened the box. She lifted her leg up and rested her foot on my knee. This zapped the air from my lungs and I felt lightheaded. She smelled good, so dangerously close now, and I tried my damndest to not glide my hand up her calf. My heart was going at speed I could longer keep up with. I was a beat away from losing the last bit of my sanity.

"Okay," I said out loud, but mostly to myself, taking the shoe and slipping it on her right foot.

My thumb grazed her ankle…fuck! She was soft. I gulped loudly, keeping my gaze on the floor and away from her. And like a merciful executioner, she removed her leg from my knee and got up from her seat. She was somewhere behind me, but I used this opportunity too fucking breathe. The air came out in a steady whoosh.

_What is she doing to me? _

I wasn't the type of guy to go this gaga over a girl. My focus has always been on other things, like my photography. That was my one passion and real true love. Not to say I didn't enjoy the company of a woman from time to time. I'm a man after all, and that part of my psyche was still active, but pursuing a full time relationship wasn't a part of the grander plan.

That was until I saw her dance.

Forty-two seconds had passed and she'd been out of my sight for too long. Panic arose from my chest and I stood up to locate her. She was at an arm's length inspecting the black and red in the mirror. I got behind her, not trying to be obvious how much she affected me, but even I could see through the reflection how I was failing miserably. She would have to be blind not to see it.

"What do you think?" I asked.

She faced me. "They're too big."

"Too big? Really?" Crouching back down, I grabbed the other shoe out of the box and read the sole…what? "Emmett," I looked over my shoulder at him and he was at the counter hitting on his fucking cashier, "these are nine and a half's."

"I'm sorry," he said with a smirk. The asshole wasn't sorry. "That's the smallest size we have."

"Oh, well," she waved me off and started to put on her boot. "Too bad."

She was leaving. Shit! Fuck! No, God damn it, I couldn't let her…not yet, not before I…speak, dumbass!

"Um, well, not necessarily, we can order these for you. Right, Em?" He did a half shrug, and I looked back at her with pleading eyes. She already had her purse over her shoulder. "Make it a special order. And if you just leave me your name and number, I can call you personally when we get them in."

She wasn't even paying attention to any of the shit I was saying, until she gave me a dead on stare and said without an ounce of affection in her tone, "Do you always make it a habit to spy on people?"

My whole body went cold…and for the fifth time that day I couldn't breathe. However, this was like being strangled or kicked in the stomach.

"What?"

"Are you really going to tell me that you're a huge fan of modern dance?"

Oh, god…she fucking saw me?

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit._

"Look, I've never done anything like that before." I sounded desperate and useless, even to my own ears. She smiled politely but I knew she thought it was all bullshit. She took the shoe box from my hands and started writing on its lid. "Honestly. Please, just let me take you out for a cup of coffee and explain."

"I don't think so."

"I promise to stay on my side of the table."

She handed me the box and stood up. "Just call me when the shoes come in, okay?"

Out of all the things in the world to fucking say to make her stay or give me a second chance, I could only manage with one last pathetic plea.

"I'm not what you think I am, okay?"

She didn't speak another word, only giving me a sympathy smile as she walked out the door.

I stood there in the middle of the store, just fucking gripping the shoe box and replaying my stupidity over and over in my head. I blew it with her. Even if she did come back for the shoes, I would never be able to prove to her that I wasn't some crazy, obsessed stalker.

"Damn it!"

I wanted to bang my head up against the nearest wall, but for now this fucking shoe box will have to do. Relinquishing my grip, I glanced down at the lid and saw she'd left me more than just a fake number.

_Tomorrow night. 6pm. Café Karma on Fullerton._

_Now you don't have to follow me._

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the twific so far. I'm following the movie somewhat closely with some of the dialogue. It's like canon. However, all of his inner ramblings I pretty much made up all on my own. See you all next week.**

**To my girl, B…one day, sometime soon, I am going to come up to California and kidnap you. Scouts honor.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

**February 14, 2014**

**3:58 PM**

**Chicago O'Hare Airport**

**Bessie Coleman Drive, Chicago, Illinois**

Seeing Emmett again after almost three years was jarring, almost if my eyes were playing tricks on me. I knew moving back to Chicago would present me with ghosts of yesterday's past, but having Bella and Emmett bombarding me all in one day was overwhelming. If I was the type of person to believe in signs or fate, this would be pretty damn blatant.

"Jesus," I hugged him tight. "How are you, man?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

I held him at arm's length. "You look great."

He grinned at me and nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I do."

Fuck, I missed the guy, but I didn't know what to say and nothing seemed appropriate.

How do you apologize for being a dick?

After my hasty move, I tried to forget about my life with Bella, and unfortunately, that included him.

He was one of the many reminders in this city and seeing him day in and day out would've made the pain of losing her that much more poignant and real.

I couldn't bear to be near any of it. It was a shitty thing to do and I was a shitty friend.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were doing that executive thing in New York."

But of course, Emmett was a better friend than me and let me off the hook. It was a relief, and I allowed the tension to roll away.

"I've moved back."

"When did you get back?"

I cringed. "Two months ago."

"Two months ago?" He pushed me. "What are you doing? You can't call a friend?"

"I'm sorry," I said, my guilt resurfacing. "I meant to." That was a lie. My intentions in Chicago were to do as little as possible. It's partly why I jumped at the chance to go to China. "I just…I moved back here with a girl and I'm working for her father and it's just…"

"Is it serious?"

It was, but now…"I don't know."

"Well, you look very serious." He laughed, expressing with his hands my slicked back hair and stiff suit.

I smiled, but again it was forced, because he didn't know how much I hated the person I've become.

"Look, man, I got to go to this business thing." Another lie, but I could feel the weight of the key card only getting heavier. Time was ticking, and with each passing second, I felt as though I was losing Bella all over again.

"Yeah, I've got a dinner to get to and such, but you should call me, my man." He pulled out his card. "Don't wait three years, okay?"

"I won't." That was the truth.

"It was good to see you." He gave me another hug, tighter than before, with a little thump on the back with his fist. "Call me."

"I will." I held up his card as proof.

"You better." He grinned at me and walked away.

I watched him as he crossed the busy intersection. Angry horns blared as he strolled into their path, and in his typical Emmett fashion, he pounded on one of cabby's hood and did his best _Taxi Driver_ impression.

**February 14, 2014**

**5:04 PM**

**Walton Place, Chicago, Illinois **

There are things in life we do without knowing why. You search your brain trying to figure out the reasons behind these actions, but there you are still doing them. These compulsions are relentless and can't be controlled. Or at least that's what you tell yourself, but deep down you knew the truth: You're fucking nuts.

A victim of your own will.

I thought my stalking days were over, but there I was doing it again. Except now, I was stalking an apparition, a fucking mystical creature. As far as I knew, she didn't exist. It was her voice I heard and the brief glimpse of the back of her head. That was hardly enough evidence to disregard the life I've built.

And what's going to happen if it was her? What will I say? What will I do?

There was no plan. I was going in blind like an idiot.

Maybe I should turn around and not go in. There was still time to catch a flight to China. I could make the meeting in the morning. Do what I was supposed to do. Keep the job and marry Kate.

I could be happy—damn it, I was happy.

Nothing had to change. I could still do right…

"Evening, sir, welcome to The Drake," a doorman greeted, waving me forward with a gentle swoop of his hand.

_Walk away. There is still time. Just walk away. _

**April 10, 2011**

**11:13 AM**

**Cortez Street, Chicago, Illinois**

"I have this dream," Bella leaned in from behind and said softly into my ear.

I was sitting at the kitchen table with my feet propped up and reading the Sunday Tribune. The sun was shining in through our large bay window, and yet, her warm breath on my neck made me shiver. It was odd that she had this effect on me, but it was a high I never wanted to come down from.

I set the paper aside and smiled. "Was I in it?"

"Yes." She spun and did a pirouette—a word I shouldn't even fucking know, but with her I wanted to know everything—into my lap.

"Was I any good?"

She put her arms around me and sighed. "We lived in France and owned vineyard."

"That's wine, right?"

"Yes." She laughed, rolling her gorgeous, unshakable eyes at me. I was many things, but funny was not one of them, but still she humored me with a giggle or two.

"All right, wine sounds cool. I could do that. Alcohol is always a plus in my book."

She stared at me for a long moment. "We had kids."

"Really?" I took in a sharp breath. "Kids?"

"Yes, we had two of them." She ran her hand through my hair. "And when the sun's rays shined down on their hair it was so red and beautiful. No winter could ever dull it."

"Wait a sec." I narrowed my eyes at her. "Are you saying my hair is dull?"

She laughed again, but it wasn't out of pity or humor. I didn't know what it was, but I felt something that I never thought I would have the courage to say. It came out before I could stop it. Faster than a heartbeat.

"I want to marry you."

It was Bella's turn to take in sharp, panicked breath. I searched her face, trying to decipher what she was thinking. She was a mystery, always deep in thought, and not so clear to read. Most of the time, when I tried to guess, I was wrong. I knew this was going to be one of those times again.

As the silence grew, and no word or anything from her, dread and regret seeped in and I didn't want to lose her on some errant thought spoken out loud.

I started to ramble. "I know we've only been dating for a few months and I don't mean tomorrow. It's not something I expect you to answer either. I was only…shit, I don't know. Forget I said anything, all right? France and two kids sounds like a blast. They'll stomp on the berries with their feet and we'll get drunk off the wine. That's good parenting 101, right? I mean, I guess the cops will be called for child endangerment…wait, how does the law work up there anyway—"

Bella put her hand over my mouth. "Shut up."

I nodded.

"I love you." She palmed my face and never looked away. "I just thought you should know."

It was the first time she said those words. They've been on my mind for months, but I thought if I said it too soon it would freak her out.

"I love you," I managed with a whisper, but as the tears rolled down her cheeks, I knew she heard me as if I had shouted it.

And when I kissed her, I could taste the salt on her lips. It was better than wine. I was drunk after one sip. If life with her meant France and two kids, I would follow her gladly. There was nothing I wouldn't do to have this woman here with me, dancing with grace into my heart and stealing every breath I took because she wanted it.

_Nothing!_

I was hers and no one else's, and that was a vow I took the moment she said she loved me.

**February 14, 2014**

**5:09 PM**

**Walton Place, Chicago, Illinois **

"Sir." The doorman cleared his throat to regain my attention. "Are we coming or going?"

There was never a choice, only the illusion of one. Because even though I put a ring on Kate's finger, I had Bella in mind the entire time. She was the face I saw when I proposed. It was a brief flash, one I didn't catch, but it was there, always there, haunting me with the promise I made years ago.

I was Bella's and no one else's.

"Yes," I crossed the threshold into the hotel. "I think I'm going to stay for awhile."

He smiled and gave me a quick tour with a flick of his wrist. Front desk to my right and the lounge to my left. It was open bar until six. I could get at least fifty shots in me before they closed.

The liquid courage was a must.

After almost forty minutes of watching the entrance—and constantly on the lookout for Bella, I decided to bite the bullet and find her room. My vision blurred, just a smidge, I relied on staff to direct me the way.

Once I was in the elevator, I could have sworn I smelled her perfume, but the logical portion of my brain knew otherwise. They called it projection or delusions. It occurred to me on several occasions that my reasoning for doing all this was paper thin, and borderline manic, but good or bad, I was going to see this through.

_Room 679._

The hallway was quiet and my foot steps were loud to my ears. The key card in my hand, I could sense my courage waning. This was the moment of truth, bread crumbs received and followed. Not knowing if she was there or not, I proceeded to knock with one to two soft raps.

"Bella?" I put my ear to the door.

There was no stirring of sounds of feet approaching. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself against the wall. The shots of whiskey made my legs wobble beneath me. Perhaps drinking beforehand and reeking of the stuff wasn't the smartest of ideas.

But at this point, I was winging it.

Once I got my bearings and the nausea passed, I slid the key card into the slot. A glorious green flashed and I twisted the handle. The door creaked open, and I poked my head in to listen. I didn't hear anything.

"Bella? Hello?"

_Nothing…_

The silence was an excruciating blessing.

Moving forward, I closed the door behind me and continued to call out her name. It was a hotel standard with a sitting area, a mini bar, and a large bed in the main room facing east. It was unmade, comforter wadded at the foot of the mattress. There were no belongings, only a half empty glass of scotch on the nightstand. I noticed the lipstick on the rim. A light shade of pink…maybe it was gloss.

Stepping into the room, I saw the bathroom with the door cracked open. That was when the sound of the shower hit my ears. My heart had been beating so loudly in my head since I walked through the door, it blocked out everything else.

And then the feeling of vomiting came back with a vengeance, getting stronger and stronger as I neared the bathroom.

I put my hand on the door and pushed. My voice cracked. "Bella?"

Further and further it opened, slowly revealing a room, air so thick with steam. I couldn't see much beyond a foot in front of me. The mirror on the wall was fogged and conveniently obscured my terrified expression. My pulse racing, thumping, and making my hands shake, I took another and final step into what might be the beginning or ending of me.

"Bella?"

And...nothing.

The bathroom was empty. I exhaled and smiled. It was a relief. I wanted to see her again, but not like this, a mess of a man with alcohol on his breath. But stopping on my own without divine intervention wasn't possible for me. I was a runaway train with no control, just waiting to be thrown off the tracks.

Shutting off the water, I grabbed one of the towels on the counter and cleared the mirror. A loud clack against the sink's porcelain caught my attention. A silver compact had fallen out of the towel. It was familiar...and Bella's.

Another bread crumb.

It was a gift her mom gave it to her when she was sixteen, shortly after they came into this country. Little mouse, or Mausi, that's what her mom called her.

I missed her, and now with this compact in my hands, she's becoming more real and my need for her was becoming more desperate.

Emotionally fucked and physically drained, I stumbled out of the bathroom and fell into the bed. It was soft, like a cloud, and I scooted up to my head on the pillow. Inhaling deep, it still smelled like her. I hugged it close, imagining all those nights I drifted off to sleep with my arms wrapped around her and a face full of her hair. It didn't take long for the pills Kate gave me and the shots of stupidity to kick in and knock me out cold.

I don't dream, but when I do it's always filled with sundresses, freckles, miles of wine vineyards, and kids with dull hair.

**AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing me. I'm working on Chopping and Changing again. I'm hoping to post that very soon.**

**P.S Brina…I love you!**

**Here's a teaser of Chopping and Changing: **

_By the time we were on the secluded back roads of Rocky Point going eighty, the sun had set in the west. Only the stars above and dim headlights below to show us the way through the darkness. I kept looking into the rearview mirror, hoping there were few police cars or a mob of angry family members chasing us down, maybe even a little measly gun fight, but there was nothing. _

_The thrill slowed to an enviable, tragic and heartbreaking crawl._

_I sat back in the seat, pulling out the celebratory lucky from behind my ear and lighting it with Edward's Zippo. The sudden flicker and flame caught his eye. I watched him as he watched me suck in the sweet, harsh smoke. It filled my lungs, the nicotine making its way into my bloodstream, pumping and coursing through my veins. _

_It calmed and soothed the nerves. All of today's stresses floated away from me in one exhale. I craved another hit, hoping it would smooth out the lingering rough edges._

"_It's a one puff and pass system, Bella." Edward snatched it from my fingers. "You know the fucking rules." He inhaled deep, his cheeks hollowing in, as the cherry glowed this burning orange and illuminated his sharp features. _

_I didn't say a damn thing, only stared at him, fucking fascinated by his cruel beauty. He wasn't paying me any mind, keeping his head straight and gaze on the road. He passed the cigarette and then placed his strong, rough and calloused hand on my leg, squeezing and releasing it. A painful squeeze and then a regrettable release, over and over he would do this. It was entrancing, and I'd been so focused and consumed by his touch, I failed to pass the cigarette back._

_He took notice, shooting me another hostile glare. "Kid, you're really starting to piss me off with that shit." _

_I responded to his aggression in kind, putting __**our **__lucky to __**my **__lips. "You want some of this?"_

_He glared, "Give it to me," and then he squeezed my leg so hard until my will was broken._

_"Ah..." I flinched. "Fuck! Okay, okay, you win."_

_He smirked and held out his fingers to me. _

_But I wasn't about to give into him so easily. Taking another long drag, I crawled over the center console and on to his lap. Edward's legs were long and he adjusted the seat all the way back, giving me plenty of room to situate myself comfortably between his chest and steering wheel. _

_I pulled the cigarette out from my teeth and turned the filter towards him. "Here."_

_He eyed me with suspicion the entire time he sucked in the smoke. I put it back to my lips, inhaling deep and as much as much I could. Lungs filled with sin, I leaned forward and opened my mouth, slowly blowing the smoke out. He took everything I gave him, but as I eased away, Edward gripped me by the neck, yanking me forward and crashing his lips into mine. The simple shotgun pass turned into a forceful, crushing kiss._

_I lost my breath…and then my mind._


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

**January 18, 2011**

**6:49 PM**

**Fullerton Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

I didn't speak—couldn't speak, actually, for the first ten minutes into our pity date. My mind was racing, trying to reconcile fact from my fiction. This woman sitting across from me with a stare that stopped my heart and held my breath wasn't what I'd expected.

All this time, I'd seen her from afar and built this fantasy. I'd imagined what she was like and tried to figure out whether or not her interests matched my own. I started to believe that I knew her better than I knew myself.

And If I did know anything at all, it was her stunning face. Every fine curve of her jaw and soft line of her lips was an image I couldn't dispel. It invaded my dreams at night and haunted me during the day. Strangers on the street even started to resemble her.

She was flawless in my eyes, but my jaded perspective of her was limited to hiding in the shadows. Up close, I realized how much of her I'd gotten wrong. She wasn't perfect.

Not even close.

Isabella Maria Benscoff-Schwanz was German—which made my Fellini reference idiotic. Bella, as she liked to be called, couldn't cook, loved Hasenpfeffer, and ate ketchup on her eggs. She detested the Cubs and rooted for the Yankees. The Spice World movie was her favorite all-time film, and she'd flushed a deep red when I'd teased her. She chewed her nails when she was nervous, and her left ear lobe was a centimeter larger than the right.

She was a person with many quirks and it shattered all traces of the woman I'd concocted in my head. She didn't say the right things and we didn't share the same interests (the Yankees was a hard pill to swallow) but when she smiled at me, all bashful and sultry, I knew perfection was shit.

Reality was far more interesting, and sexier, than the empty shell of my own creation.

It was time for me to wake up.

**January 18, 2011**

**7:53 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"We moved to the US from Prague when I was sixteen. My parents split up a few years later and my mom moved back. My father is still here. He lives in California."

It was snowing, a few flakes here and there, but it'd dropped the temperature twenty degrees or more. No matter how many winters I go through, I'll never get use to the way it chills my bones.

Shoving my hands deeper into my pockets, I fought the urge to wrap my arms around her. "I wish I was in California right now."

She laughed with me and nodded, burying her face in her scarf and took a step closer into my side. The heat radiating off her was tempting me, but again, I restrained myself. After all the stalking and shameless rambling, I couldn't behave like I normally would on a date. There had to be some boundaries.

Besides, she terrified me. I didn't know how to act _normal_ around her.

"So," she broke the silence, "why did you want to become a photographer?"

I've been asked this question many times, and I'd always given a different answer, but she's the first one I wanted to tell the truth to.

"Fish."

She raised a surprised eyebrow. "Fish?"

"Tropical fish, actually." I smiled at the memory. "When I was a kid, I used to go to the library and pull out all these books. Tropical fish was my favorite, all the colors and shapes. When I was eight years old, I realized that someone had to go down there and take the pictures of those fish. I wanted that to be me." And that should have been the end of it, but it didn't stop me from continuing. I couldn't explain why after nearly an hour of being mute, I was suddenly divulging all my thoughts to her. "But I grew up, and I realized things don't have to be extraordinary to be beautiful. The ordinary can be just as beautiful."

"Like what?"

"Well," I spun around and searched the park. There was a hot dog stand to our right with a man and woman at its window. "You see that couple there. Look how the girl is hanging on to him so tight, but he can still drink his coffee, you know? Looks like she feels safe wrapped around him."

Bella was staring at me with a look I couldn't figure out. There was something behind her eyes. It wasn't pity or thinking I was full of shit, but something else…attraction or awe, maybe?

_Damn!_ I was horrible at this.

Clenching the inside of my pockets, I held myself back from leaning in for the gazillionth time. She looked stunning with the blue glow of the moon on her face and the glistening snow in her hair. There was no way for me _not_ to kiss her, unless of course, I tried to ignore those feelings and deflect the situation.

"And if you believe that," I smirked, "I'll tell you another one."

The tension became so strong, one of us had to look away, and mercifully it was Bella. She had this way with turning me into a man who was unsure of himself. I've never been this nervous around a girl. I wasn't a Casa Nova, by any means, but I was better than this…this awkwardness.

"Take my picture," her eyes on the camera slung over my neck for a brief second and then flashing back up to me, "I feel beautiful tonight."

I didn't blink, move, or speak. How could I? Bella offered me unlimited access of capturing her on film. I didn't even have to ask or stalk her. There was nothing in this world I wanted more.

Now if only I could slow my heart down, maybe then I could fucking think straight or at least say something to her.

Bella laughed, not in a mocking fashion, but in a way that told me she'd surprised herself. I followed her with my eyes and then my feet as we walked down the small slope towards Emmett's Mustang. The wind blew and she shivered. I didn't think, only reacted, putting my arm over her shoulders. I waited with a nervous breath for her to push me away…

She leaned in.

**January 18, 2011**

**8:36 PM**

**Cortez Street, Chicago, Illinois**

The car ride to her apartment was quiet. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn't get past the possibility of taking her picture. When did she mean? She said she felt beautiful tonight and never spoke of it again. Would it be inappropriate to push the subject? I was lost and confused and out of my league. This girl was way above my pay-grade.

I pulled over to the curb and parked. As I turned to face her to say something to ease the silence, she kissed me. I didn't have time to react before she was pulling away.

"Bye," she said and got out of the car.

I stared at where she was sitting, stunned and paralyzed by what had transpired. It happened so quick and out of the blue. If I'd been prepared I would've put effort into my kiss, but now…I licked my lips, tasting the remnants of her gloss…a hint of kiwi.

She circled around the front of the car, stopping right before her door, and waved at me. I waved back and uttered a bye. She didn't hear me, of course, distance and glass muting my speech. There was a look of disappointment on her face before turning away. I was glued to my seat, powerless or too big of a chicken shit to go chasing after her.

"Shit!" I groaned and rubbed my face with frustration. It didn't mean anything. Just a pity kiss. That was it. She felt sorry for me. I needed to go home and forget about tonight. And perhaps take a cold shower. Yes, that's what I needed, a cold, sterilizing shower. _Okay. Okay. Okay_. "Okay!"

Putting the car into gear, I drove away into the night, but didn't go far. The kiss was playing over and over in my head on a relentless and agonizing loop. Her lips were soft, but firm, and although there was no tongue, she added pressure. It wasn't a pity peck, I've had a few of those, and it was on the mouth. No cheek or anything. If she thought I was some creepy stalker dude, she wouldn't feel obligated to soften the rejection with a kiss. She would run and never look back. And I didn't get the feeling that Bella was the type of girl to lead men on.

That kiss meant something. It had to. And if I didn't act on it right-fucking-now, I was going to blow it with her forever.

"Fuck!" I slammed on the breaks and shifted into reverse. The engine revved under the sudden distress of my foot on the gas pedal. The tires squealed as the car propelled backwards, fishtailing into the curb. I pulled the keys out of the ignition and flung the door open. Running and nearly falling on my ass on the snow-slicked sidewalk, I got inside her building by pushing my way past a woman coming out. There was no plan, and I had no idea what I was going to say to her. What if I read her wrong—no! Screw that, I couldn't think that way.

She kissed me because she wanted to. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. I know it.

Four floors later, out of breath and out of my mind, I skidded to a stop at her door. My hand rose to knock and I hesitated. Pacing for a minute, building up the courage, I needed a line to open with. Maybe I should ask her when I could see her again or pretend like I forgot something.

But what did I forget? That was a stupid idea. I needed something better and realistic.

_Think, asshole, think. _

Okay, well, what about gas? I could just say my tank was empty and it was too cold to walk anywhere. I needed a place to crash for the night. I could sleep on her couch. I'm a gentleman and will keep my hands to myself. Yeah, that was believable. She would buy that, right?

Shit, no. That can't work. What the hell was wrong with me? Get it together, Cullen—fuck, you amateur.

_Okay, I'm just gonna knock and see what happens._

Taking a deep breath and shutting my eyes closed, I knocked on her door. Praying she doesn't knee me in the nuts. That would suck.

A pulse-thumping second later, Bella opened the door. She was wearing a pink slip, showing off her breasts and flawless, long legs.

My mouth went dry, but somehow, by the grace of God, I croaked out a heavily panted, "Hi."

"Hi," she replied and yanked me in by the coat inside her apartment.

My lips were on hers even before I could exhale, but I didn't need to breathe to kiss her. The kiwi flavor invaded my taste buds again, but this time I wasn't caught off guard by it and didn't fog my thoughts. I was alert and fucking responded to her. My hands were everywhere: in her hair, on the silk fabric of her slip, down to the soft skin of her thighs. I kissed her deep, reckless and the crazed with my tongue. Having her all at once made me impatient and greedy.

It was messy, and half the time I'd missed the mark, getting her jaw and neck, but she was just as uncoordinated. Further into her apartment she dragged me back. I stumbled a few times, not knowing where she was leading me, but determined to keep our kiss going.

She took a breath and pulled my coat partway down. I shrugged it off the rest of the way, dropping it on the floor. I bent at the knees and grabbed her by the curve of her ass to lift her up. She wrapped her legs around me, so fucking tight and suffocating. Jesus! I tried to block how close her heat was to me.

Walking backwards towards her room or wherever, I caught the edge of a wayward couch in my path and fell back. But it must if been a chair, because it couldn't hold us and we rolled to the floor. Landing hard on my back, I grunted as it knocked the air out of my lungs. Bella was still straddling me with my hands on her thighs. We laughed at the absurdity of this need, but it didn't stop us nor did it bring our judgment back.

Bella grasped me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me up. She attacked my lips again. I had a hard time keeping up with her, but I managed, and matched her urgency.

Only then as my heart sped up did my mind slow down. I couldn't get enough of her and wanted more and more, but I could feel myself getting too excited. I wanted to be with her longer than a minute and needed to take it down a notch.

Pulling away from her and taking a steady breath, I skimmed my nose along her throat. I inhaled deep, intoxicating myself in the smell of her skin. Trailing my mouth down her neck and to her chest, I knew this war was lost.

Why didn't I even try?

I whispered in awe against her skin. "You're extraordinary."

"No." She pulled back and removed her slip. My eyes widened as she revealed herself to me. All flesh, soft and perfect. "I'm ordinary."

Then she quieted my protests with her mouth hard on mine. That was it. There was no holding back now. Hell, I couldn't even if I wanted to. Things were going to move at their own pace, now slowed but just as needy and chaotic. We landed in her bed with a thud, naked and an odd tangle of limbs, moving together and without thought.

This wasn't a one night stand. It never was to me, but I knew from the way she kissed me or looked at me with those deep, longing eyes that I wasn't a fling to her or some stalker guy she decided give a pity fuck to.

This was real.

More real than anything I'd ever felt before.

Even though my feelings for her right now didn't go beyond lust or twisted obsession, I knew it wouldn't take me long to fall hard for this girl. So hard and fast it was bound to knock the wind out of me.

It should've scared me, this power I was giving her to break my heart.

But whoever thinks that far ahead?

**AN: Thanks for coming back and reading. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Only nine chapters left. It's a short fic, but I'll try to make it a fun read. Anyway, I'll see you next Monday.**

**Thanks a million to my bestie and pre-reader, Brina! **


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 15, 2014**

**9:13 AM **

**Walton Place, Chicago, Illinois**

The thumping came in slow, pulling Bella out of my arms, until it became a loud, persistent pounding I was unable to ignore. Ripped from the dream, I was jolted awake, sitting upright and glancing around the room. My heart hammered against my chest with a feeling of dread. Panicked, I felt around for her, only to realize a second later where I was.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Shit!" I jumped out of the bed and to my feet.

Someone was here. Running to the door to look out the peephole, I feared it was Bella. If she found me here, in her fucking room, what would I say to her? After three years of no contact, I didn't think my old stalking habits would seem as adorable to her. Not that they ever did, but for some reason she was flattered by it.

And there wasn't like I had another escape route out of here. I was six stories high with nothing but concrete to break my fall.

I was screwed.

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _"Housekeeping."

A maid with dry cleaning in her hands tapped on the door a few more times before walking away. It wasn't Bella. Thank God. My rigid and tense posture slumped against the wall and I shook my head. I was in the clear—for now. But Jesus, man, I was crazy. I passed out on her bed? This shit was getting out of hand.

What the hell was I doing here?

How can the voice of one woman, who broke my heart, set me on down a path of irretrievable destruction and possible jail time? I must be a masochist, because walking away from finding her was never an option for me. I could only move forward and pray that I come out of this breathing.

Gathering my coat and satchel, I formulated a plan. If there was any way of contacting Bella, I had to go back to the scene of the crime. The key card was the answer. Bella had to know she'd lost it and come back to the restaurant looking for it. I could leave it with the owner or bartender with a note attached to it for her.

Yeah.

That'll be good.

Scanning the room one last time for anything I'd missed, I noticed an unused ashtray with ripped up pieces of newspaper in it. Collecting another bread crumb and stuffing it into my pocket, I snatched the powder case off the bed and left the room with a newfound hope.

I was going to find her.

**February 15, 2014**

**10:59 AM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

I paced Emmett's loft above his shoe store. When I'd seen him last, he was in the process of buying the owner out. There was a loan pending from the bank, but he'd felt confident that it was going to be his. Three years later, the store was bigger than ever, selling high end shoes and was given a significant review in the Chicago Tribune about an up and comer.

I was proud of him.

But now, he was my confidant and saving grace. He'd helped me piece together the torn up newspaper article left behind by Bella. It was a story about a wealthy international industrialist's wife being killed by a hit-and-run. I'm not sure what it meant, but I had a feeling this Marcus Volturi was the man she was speaking on the phone with. He scared her. I needed to know why.

"This is the article she left behind. The funeral is today."

"Let me get this straight," Emmett rubbed the stress lines in his forehead, "you blew off your trip to China because of some girl who skipped out on you over three years ago?"

"It wasn't like that."

"It was exactly like that, Eddy." He picked up the powder case and let the silver catch the light. "What about your woman? What's her name anyway?"

"Kate."

"Yeah, what about her? I mean, this isn't exactly Bella. It's just a case…" his voice was becoming a dull buzzing sound, "…Eddy. Eddy!"

The powder case landed at my feet. I cringed at the breaking of the glass. When I glanced back up at Emmett annoyed, he gave me a winced, half-apologetic grimace.

"Shit." I picked it up and opened it.

"Is it broke?"

A million fragments, splintered into a spider web, disfiguring and displacing my reflection.

"Are you superstitious?"

"God, man, I'm so stupid." Emmett got up from his seat and held out his hand. "Here, give it to me, I'll fix it."

"No, no, don't worry about it." I put it into my pocket and began to pace again. "You're right. This whole thing is crazy. It doesn't make any sense. One minute I'm looking at venues for the wedding and the next minute I'm here doing this."

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" Emmett chased me into the next room. "You're getting married? I didn't realize you were that serious."

"Apparently, I'm not."

"Man, but I guess that's just how the universe works. The minute you make a decision in life, a permanent—and lawfully binding—decision, here walks in…temptation."

"What would you do?"

Emmett thought for a minute and smiled. "Keep them both and hope they never find out about each other."

"That's perfect." I chuckled and punched him in the shoulder. "Asshole."

There was something about the way she disappeared three years ago. It didn't feel right to me. The sickening feeling that something bad happened flared up in my gut. I was nauseous. The reasons to why couldn't go unanswered forever.

"I have to know why she left."

"She got scared. Everyone gets scared."

"No, not Bella." I held the compact tight. My only link to her. "She wouldn't have left without some kind of explanation. Without a letter or call or something. She wasn't like that. Something must have happened to her, and whatever it was—"

"Screwed you up big time."

I hadn't fooled him. Not in the slightest. But I didn't expect him to believe my lies. They weren't meant for him. It was about the falsity I told myself day in and day out. It was the only way to get me out of bed in the morning. Bella messed me up in a real bad way. I couldn't deny it.

There was only one truth.

"I know she loved me." Emmett's pity was written all over his face, but I chose not to acknowledge it. "So, let me borrow your keys, okay?"

"Why?"

"The funeral is today. It's the only lead I got."

"Oh…" he groaned, "my car?"

"Come on." I didn't want to get on my knees and beg, but I wasn't opposed to it. "Please."

"I know. I know." He begrudgingly pulled them out of his pant pocket and tossed them to me. "But you have to be back here by seven."

"I will. Thank you." I grabbed my coat and headed for the door.

"I've got a date."

It was an afterthought statement, but it caught my attention and I stopped to look at him.

"What? You got a date?"

Emmett was smiling from ear to ear. There was a noticeable and palpable nervous energy rolling off him. It was unusual. I think that was what threw me.

"Yeah, I got a date."

"With who?"

"This actress. She came into my shop a couple of weeks ago, and yeah. I like her _a lot, _so please, do not be late with my car."

If I couldn't have a happily ever after, I was going to make sure my best friend did.

"Six," I said. "I'll be back by six."

**February 15, 2014**

**2:12 PM**

**Franklin Street, Chicago, Illinois**

_Bella,_

_I've been trying to find you. I have your powder case. Please call me at…_

I pulled out Emmett's business card and wrote down his number. My phone was a company owned. It occurred to me if this thing went sour, I didn't want to have to explain the number to Kate. My lying was poorly executed these days. If pushed, I would spill everything to her about Bella and this little fiasco in Chicago.

That was assuming I still had a fiancée and a job after this was all over.

"Excuse me," I called over the bartender.

"What can I do for you?"

"I found a hotel key in the back yesterday. It was left by a woman." He stared at me with a blank expression. "I don't know if you remember her. She's an attractive brunette that ran out of here."

"The one who broke her heel?"

"What?" I tried to remember the exact events, and I briefly recall her stumbling.

"Yeah, she broke her heel right there." He pointed a few feet from the bar. "You want to leave the key with me?"

I patted my coat and felt it was missing. Shit. I left it at Emmett's.

"No, um, can you just give her this note?" I slid it over to him with a hundred dollar bill.

"No problem."

"Thanks a lot."

**February 15, 2014**

**6:28 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

I'd arrived at the end of the service and followed him back into the city. He led me to an apartment near downtown. I tried to stay hidden, only a few steps behind him at all times, but luckily he was too wrapped up in his own shit to notice me stalking him.

Once in the building, we hiked up three flights of stairs. I crept behind him, blocked by a wall. He got to her door, assuming, and pounded with his fist, three to four hard knocks.

"Bella!"

I came to a still in the hallway as the loud thumping of my heart went silent. Never was the lack of beating more deafening. This Marcus guy took me exactly where I wanted to be. The fear and excitement overwhelmed my thoughts. Shit! I didn't know what to do or how to breathe normally.

"Bella!" He continued to shout through the door. "Open up."

But no one answered. He finally stopped knocking and let himself in, giving me an opportunity to get a better vantage point. A few stairs and a second or two later, I was crouched down on the darken staircase. Dimly obscured by an iron wrought banister, I tried to maintain a smidge of composure.

I couldn't believe I'd found her. The bread crumbs, no matter how minute, were enough to bring me to the place she lived. Even if she never went back to the restaurant, I knew this was better. The one thing that bothered me was the guy. Who was he? Why did she tear up the newspaper article? And if she had an apartment, why was she staying at The Drake. Nothing was adding up. There was more to this, I just didn't know what.

He came back out a moment later. I ducked out of view, watching him place a single red rose on the handle and slipped a white envelope underneath the door. He stared at nothing for a minute before leaving. I waited until I couldn't hear his footsteps anymore before getting up from my spot and charging to Bella's apartment.

Getting down to the ground, I peered through the crack and spotted the envelope. It was out of my finger reach. Instead of giving up and leaving—like a normal fucking person, I took off my belt and slid it under the door, flinging the tip of it on top of the envelope until it caught. Pulling out with a slow ease, I was able to get my hands on the damn thing.

Sitting back on the staircase, I thought about what I was doing. This was none of my business. What Bella has done in the last three years was none of my business. Who he was to her was still none of my business. I didn't own her and had no claim on her. And yet, all this rationale thinking going on in my head did nothing to stop my impulsive actions.

Opening it, a key fell into my lap. I glanced up at the door, knowing exactly where this went to. The letter he left was next, I tried to stop myself from reading it. Maybe to secure what was left of my sanity. But it felt heavy in my hands. I couldn't stop my intrusive snooping. I had to know.

_Bella, _

_Here is your key. I've returned it as you asked. If only I could see your face one last time. Call me. My heart can't stand it. _

_All my Love, _

_Marcus._

There it was, in my face. He lived with her. He was intimate with her. He loved her. I was crushed. As if someone took a fucking bat and hit me in the stomach, I slumped over. The pain I'd felt the first time she left me rivaled the agony I was feeling right now. My heart locked up in a vice, it began to squeeze and squeeze, until the pressure came too much and I couldn't feel anything.

Life lost the pizzazz. No taste or color. Just an empty plate sat in front of a starving man.

All these years apart and she moved on, as I did, but now I think knowing the truth was going to hurt more than believing a lie. It protected me. I could imagine her being somewhere else missing me, just like I've missed her. I didn't have to visualize this guy, a married douche touching her, kissing my girl's lips and making love to her.

My hands balled into fists and the letter crumbled. This poor sack was in the same place I was. He was reaching out for an unattainable ghost. I should have felt sorry for him, but I hated him. Why should he have her? I'd put my whole life on the line for Bella. My fiancée and career was put into limbo because I believed she loved me.

I still do.

A memory came to me, so long ago, but all too vivid. It was the same day she spoke of France. Bella was a beautiful dancer, so elegant, graceful, and sexy. She always tried to get me to join her, but I refused each time. I was too stiff and awkward. Photography better suited me. I took pictures of her dancing. That was me.

But for some reason it changed that day. Bella wouldn't let me off the hook. She pulled me out of my chair and made me dance to salsa music.

I closed my eyes, reliving the way she felt under my fingertips. How soft her skin was. How good she smelled. I couldn't get her out of my head. Bella changed me. When I was with her, I felt alive. She made me happy. Happier than I'd ever thought I could be.

I never wanted to stop feeling that way.

So, I didn't think about what I was doing or the repercussions of making contact with her. I just wrote the letter and slipped it under the door. The key was mine to keep.

Now all I had to do was wait for her to come home…and then I saw the time.

**7:15.**

"Shit!"

**AN: Thanks for reading. See you next week.**

**All my love to my pre-reader and bestie, Brina. You rock! Feel better soon.**


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 15, 2014**

**7:42 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"Ass…"

Emmett met me at the door with a drink in hand. There was nothing to say, other than, well…

"I'm so sorry."

"...hole!" he finished, turning his back to me and walking away.

Shrugging off my coat and tossing it on a nearby table, I followed him through the loft, hoping to plead my case. "Hey, I can explain."

"You're an asshole."

I knew he was upset at me, but I had a very good reason to be late. There was so much to tell him, but I didn't know where to start. My day started off bleak and hopeless, going off of one newspaper article, had turned into a success. It was a Christmas miracle on 34th Street and shit.

I still couldn't believe it.

"Come on, Em," I said, and Emmett cut me off with a jingling of his glass.

"Do me a favor," he was drinking whiskey on the rocks. I looked around for the source, needing a stiff drink to calm my excitability. Or at least get a celebration going, "and never ask me to do you any favors."

Blowing off his dramatics, I sat on the arm of the couch across from him and grinned. "I found her."

"I'm really happy for you, Eddy."

"Well, I didn't find her, but I found her apartment, anyway." My grin became even wider. She was within my grasp. I could feel it. "I left a letter under her door and told her to meet me at the park tomorrow."

"Guess you guys should have a picnic." His sarcastic tone and glare finally broke through my Bella high.

"Jesus, man, I said I was sorry." I sped through the city and ran several lights to get back on time, but when you're already running late, it doesn't matter how much you hurry. It's all the same. "I got here as fast as I could."

"My entire evening is screwed."

"Look, it's not really that late, brother." I checked my watch and gulped down my guilt. It was 7:45 and a second away from 7:46. Fuck! "You can still make it."

He scoffed. "Rose doesn't wait around for anyone. Trust me." He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing and groaning. "Besides, I've already called her and left three messages."

"Well, why didn't you take a cab?"

I regretted the statement the moment it left my mouth, but it was out there now. This obvious solution didn't sit well with Emmett—in fact, it pissed him off more.

"Because I was waiting for you. I was waiting for my _car_."

There was no point in trying to defend myself. I was selfish, and I knew that, but this Bella thing consumed me. Time was lost, along with my mind, and I couldn't figure out how to stop it. All these people in my life were inadvertently affected by my need to have her. Nothing beyond my wants and self-centered desires seemed important. Everything was peripheral in my vision, and my Bella was the kaleidoscope, blinding me with her shapes and colors.

"It's not that late, you can still drive over there." I handed him back his keys.

He slammed them down on the table. "Go over there and do what? Throw little pebbles up at her window? Nah, man, she's gone. It's over. Just forget it."

I was opening my mouth to say something profound and uplifting, give him a little shove or encouragement, when the phone rang.

Emmett's eyes bugged out. He was shaking his head slightly and resisting the urge to smile, but he knew as well as I did who was on the other line.

"Maybe not," I said.

"Dude, for the sake of our friendship," he got up and grabbed the phone, "this better be who I want it to be." The phone kept ringing in his hands. "Want to see how cool I am? Three rings."

I chuckled. "Just answer it."

"Hello?" A moment later and an anxious breath passed, he smiled and slapped my leg. It was her. All was forgiven. "Hey, how's it going?"

I ran my hands through my hair, fucking grateful that I didn't mess up his life too. Mine was enough, plus the life of Kate that was destined to be obliterated by my callous behavior. But I can't think about that right now. My conscience had a way of distracting me from the prize.

I'm such a bastard.

"Oh, yeah, I am so sorry," Emmett continued to talk on the phone with his girl. "Did you get my messages? No, I lent my car to my buddy, Eddy," he rubbed my head—hard— to express his frustrations with me. I pushed him away, "and he was a little late coming home."

Maybe not all was forgiven. I'm sure if he didn't get some tonight, he was going to be pissed at me for a week. That would be an all-time record for him.

"No, he's right here. Hold on a sec." Emmett held the phone out to me.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "What?"

"She wants to talk to you."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know." He pushed the receiver into my hands. "Fix it. You have to fix it."

"Um, okay." What the hell was I supposed to do? He was in this situation because of me. So, like any good friend making up for dicking their other friend over, I sucked it up and took it like a man. "Hello?"

"_He's full of shit, isn't he?"_

She had a deep voice, and almost raspy in a way, as if she was getting over a cold. It surprised me and not what I'd expected, but her straight to the point bluntness made me smile.

I liked her instantly.

"Yeah, he's full of shit, all right."

Emmett hit me in the shoulder. I waved him off. He had to trust me on this. I knew what I was doing.

"_See, I knew it."_

"Well, he lied, because he didn't exactly lend me his car," I said, putting every ounce of guilty inflection I had into my voice. "I took it. I stole his keys."

Emmett grinned, now putting his arm around me and put his head close to mine. He was trying to listen, but having him breathing heavily on my face was distracting me.

"Dude," I mouthed and shoved him towards the other side of the couch.

"_Now why would you do that?"_

"Because I'm a selfish idiot." I got off the couch and away from him. He was smart enough to keep his ass put, but continued to watch me with intent curiosity as I paced his loft. "I had this whole thing going on and…" I had to stop myself. "Look, I don't want to bore you with it."

"_Please, I insist._"

"Okay," I sat on Emmett's bed, not needing a reason to talk about Bella, only an invitation. "Well, um…I was looking for somebody." Emmett groaned, putting a mock gun to his head and pulling the trigger. "A woman. I wasn't thinking." I chuckled to myself. "I got a little desperate."

Emmett snorted, and I flipped him off.

"_Oh. I'm sorry._"

"No. I should be apologizing to _you_," I said, and Emmett gave me two thumbs up. "And I am apologizing. I'm very sorry that I ruined your evening."

Emmett got up and tip-toed across the room, as if she was going to hear him, and sat down beside me. He kept his distance, but not by much.

"_No, it wasn't ruined._"

"Good, I'm glad to hear that."

There was silence on the other end, I didn't know if she hung up or what. Then I heard a breath, maybe a sigh, and then she spoke again.

"_Did you find her?_"

"Yeah, I think so. I found out where she lives."

Emmett held out his hand and demanding the phone back now. I guess he had enough.

"_Well, you should go back and you should look for her."_

Why that didn't cross my mind, I will never know, but hearing a woman's voice giving me encouragement made all the difference. Maybe I wasn't a stalker creep or a selfish asshole. Maybe everything I've been doing would be considered romantic.

It was a long shot, but I was going with it.

"I think I will. Thanks."

"You're boring now," Emmett said. "Give me the phone."

"Okay, Rose," I rambled quickly. "I gotta go."

"_It was nice to talking to you._"

"Yeah, it was nice talking to you, too. Bye, bye." I gave Emmett the receiver and smiled. "She's nice, man."

He grinned with pride. "Thanks."

They continued their conversation in the next room, without my help, and made plans to meet up. He left five minutes later to go pick her up at the theater. I wished him luck, not thinking he needed it, but knowing he could use it.

Home alone, I had the couch and TV to myself and the fridge at my disposal. Sleep seemed like a good idea, but I was too anxious about tomorrow. The ball was in Bella's court now. Like always, she had the power to make me or break me.

Not wanting to fucking think anymore, I grabbed the bottle of Emmett's whiskey and poured me a glass.

The first one went down burning, the second one soothed, and the third one gave me the courage to call Kate.

**February 15, 2014**

**9:02 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"_God, you sound so close," _Kate said. _"It's hard to believe you're 7,000 miles away."_

It was more like five to six blocks away, but at this point, I felt a million miles away from her. "I know. It's crazy, isn't it?"

I was keeping up with my lie. There was something about throwing everything away based on a delusion. Bella was still imaginary. Even though I found out where she lived, I couldn't put all my eggs in that one basket. Not until I knew for sure. I cared about Kate, I really did. If there was any way to minimize the damage, I was going to do my damndest to ensure she walks away from this.

"_How's the weather?"_

"I don't know." I walked up to the display window of Emmett's shoe store and stared out onto Ashland Avenue. "It's still dark out."

There was a pause. "_Isn't it, like, ten in the morning there?"_

Mentally calculating the time difference, I grimaced because she wasn't that far off. I was an idiot. My story was as flimsy as my loyalty to Kate. Everything was bound to catch up with me.

Now I was flustered, back pedaling as fast as I could. "Yeah, um, I'm…I'm so zonked, I didn't even open the blinds yet." I imagined myself as a good man, a faithful man to his fiancée, who was in China opening the shades to the city down below and letting its sunlight shine in. "You know what, now that I look, it's a really nice day out."

_Fuck, and the Oscar goes to…_

"_Are you sure nothing's wrong?" _ Kate knew her version of me better than anyone. I didn't lie well, and never to her. She could tell, and I hated her for it.

"No, I'm fine." I rubbed my forehead, feeling the migraine pound against my skull. "I'm just a little out of it, that's all."

"_Well, you better get on it, baby. Today is a big day for us." _She sighed, and I could imagine her face. The look of love and encouragement—one I didn't deserve._ "You'll be fine. I know you'll do great. You always have. Okay?"_

"Okay."

"_Don't worry, baby. I miss you."_

I wanted to say it back, but couldn't.

"_Bye."_

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and stood there for a long, long time feeling like the biggest piece of shit.

All the commitments I made before yesterday should still mean something to me. The ring on Kate's finger was a promise to love her forever. I meant it when I got down on one knee and proposed. The promise I made to her father, telling him that he could trust me to land the account in China. There was no other man better for the job than me. I'd meant it then.

Every word out of my mouth for the past three years was said with good intentions.

I couldn't say the same now.

**February 16, 2014**

**2:45 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

I showed up early. The snow was falling and coating the ground. The sun did nothing to hide the bitter cold. But I didn't feel any of the chills or the bite of the weather. My mood and excitement overshadowed it all.

This was where Bella and I had our first date, and since then it's always been a place we would meet. It was ours. The only part of the city we claimed and actually meant something. I didn't have to tell her where in the note.

_Bella,_

_I found your powder case. I have to see you. Meet tomorrow at 3:00 PM, our usual spot._

_Edward._

I couldn't sit still, constantly watching my clock and the passerby's on the streets. Anyone with brown hair or remotely resembling Bella got my heart beating fast. It was ten degrees out and I was sweating. Anxious and excited to see her, I wasn't sure on what I would say, but knowing in the end it wouldn't matter.

But with each passing second, I was let down when everyone who entered the park wasn't her.

So, I paced and worried, keeping my hopes high and my emotions low.

**February 16, 2014**

**3:35 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

She was only thirty minutes late. That was what I told myself. The feeling was so eerily familiar, but I refused to let it in. My mind stayed focused. She was going to show. I believed that.

I had to give her more time. There were a lot of reasons why she would be running behind. She got caught up in traffic. She got sick and went to the hospital (and I was tempted to call Chicago Metro, but refrained). But in all the mostly likeliest of cases, she didn't get the letter.

That was the hope I was clinging to. My denial was iron-clad. I've lived with it for many years and it hasn't failed me yet.

I still held out hope that she would show.

Bella was only forty minutes late. It wasn't horrible, but a decent amount to wait. I could do it. I've waited three years for this girl. What was another hour?

She's going to show.

She's going to show.

She _was _going to show.

**February 16, 2014**

**4:00 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

The sky was darkening, the sun giving off its last bit of rays and giving the hanging clouds a purple hue. The snow soaked into my shoes and I was frozen in the bench. The minutes continued to pass with no Bella. I wasn't going to stay all day. She wasn't going to show. I knew that now, but I hoped for the sake of my sanity and my heart (which was barely hanging on by a thread) that she had a good reason.

Bella held all the cards, but how she played them was still a mystery to me. I'd already crapped out, losing all my chips in one hand. Gambling wasn't my game. I preferred the safest, most sure route in life.

A few years back, I was sure that life included Bella.

Now this life of mine was different, but my attitude for sureness was still the same. I put my money in the middle of the craps table and bet it all on Kate.

I was quickly losing that hand as well.

_Five more minutes_, I told myself, a last ditch plea. _I'll wait five more minutes._

**February 16, 2014**

**4:25 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

Standing in the hallway, I palmed the apartment key in my hand and debated with myself. Rose told me to go back to Bella's place and find her. It was sound advice for a man who was at his breaking point.

Besides, waiting at the park for her was all too familiar and I couldn't do that again. Healing the first time around was hard enough, if forced to do it again, I don't think I'd be as resilient.

Time was another issue. It was running out and no longer a luxury of mine. I had to be in China by tomorrow if I was to salvage everything I was set on destroying.

I knocked on the door. Nothing happened. The unknown was killing me. I knocked again, harder this time around. Still there was no movement or sign of life. I'd hoped she would've been home, but then again, I hoped that she wasn't.

As a final act of desperation, I crossed another line, slipping the key into the door and turning over the lock.

Was it considered breaking and entering if you had a key? I was about to find out.

Slowly inching the door open, I poked my head in. "Hello?"

Holding my breath, I listened…and nothing. It was quiet, just like at the hotel. Closing the door behind me, I walked down the hallway and whispered her name. It was a coward thing to do, but if she was home, I didn't want to startle her.

Continuing down the path to hell, I saw my note on a foyer table. It was opened. Bella had read it. She knew where to meet me and still didn't show. That was a pretty clear sign that she wanted nothing to do with me. I should have left. Calling it a quits and getting my ass to China.

But a glutton for pain, I needed to see her. I wanted to talk to her. She had to tell me why she left. If I got anything out of this, I had to get the truth. Maybe it would give me a reason to close that chapter on my life and move on.

Determined to get this over with, I was on the hunt for Bella for a different reason. Each room was empty, but I noticed little things that reminded me of her. The Ballerina knick-knacks and the deep red walls to match her bed spread. This whole apartment smelled of her.

Then there were the shoes. They were unmistakable. The black ones with the red soles. I took one large stride across the room and bent down to inspect them. The heel on the right shoe was broken. It was her. She stumbled in the restaurant and broke her heel. That's what the bartender said.

The shoe was a size 8 ½…like Fellini.

I smiled. This was her place.

The front door opened and closed. I jumped to my feet and flattened myself against the wall.

"Fuck!"

I glanced around, looking for the nearest exit. There was a window to my left with a fire escape. I was four stories up, not high off the ground, but what would I do then? Would I run back up here and knock on her door?

The only thing left to do was deal with it.

I ran to the nearest closet.

Pressed against her clothes, I listened as Bella walked through the house. The heels of her shoes clacked on the wood floors. She came into the bedroom, took off her coat and tossed it on the bed. I could barely see her through the sliver of the sliding doors. She stood there for a moment, taking a step in my direction, making me suck in a haggard breath, but then she changed her course and walked out of the room.

I waited a few seconds before exiting my hiding spot. The red jacket and yellow scarf lying on the bed brought her back to me. It took all I had not to gather it up and breathe it in, but the real thing was in the next room.

Keeping my approach soft, I entered the living room and spotted her silhouette by the window. She was covered by the sheer curtains, totally oblivious to me behind her.

Each step I took towards her, I couldn't hide how losing her had damaged me. All those years, wondering about her and missing her. Dreaming of her smile night after night, and imagining every time I kissed Kate that her lips were Bella's. Everything I'd become, good and bad, was because of her. The loss of a love was rising up and coming out through my eyes. I wiped it away, swallowing back all that emotion and breathing in through my nose.

I held up a shaky hand and reached out for her. "Bella?"

**AN: Thanks for reading. It's slow going and I hope you're still with me. **

**Also, to my Brina, hang in there, babe! You're stronger than anyone I know. You've got this! **


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 16, 2014**

**4:45 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

Spinning around on my touch, she looked up at me with tear stained cheeks and deep blue eyes. We stared at each other, neither of us moving or saying a damn thing. I couldn't comprehend what or who I was seeing. Shock and disbelief was suspended in the air for a few more seconds, maybe more, but it seemed longer. Time moves slow in hell.

This girl was beautiful, but sadly, her face was unfamiliar. I went to speak, but she raised her fists and hit me. I backed away from her blows, but she followed and tackled me to the floor. I landed on my back with her on top. She let out this ear-piercing scream. It was deafening and unsettling.

Confused and disoriented from her punches to my ribs and chest, I reached up and covered her mouth with my hand. That was stupid and a huge mistake. She bit into me, her sharp teeth puncturing my skin and drawing blood.

"OW!" I yanked my hand away and rolled over towards the couch.

She got off me, running to one side of the room while I jumped to my feet and got to the other side. My hand was throbbing with pain. Cursing up a storm, I tried to keep myself as far from her as humanly possible, but soon realized the how this looked from her perspective. She was scared and had a right to be. A strange guy was in her friend's house. I was lucky not to be shot.

But she was still screaming and I needed a moment to think.

"Shit, I'm sorry. It's okay." I held up my hands in surrender. "I know how this looks—"

"I'm calling the police!" She twirled towards a coffee table. "Where's the phone?"

"No, no! Don't call the police. Don't call the police." _Fuck!_ "I'm not going to hurt you." I rushed over to stop her, but that was another dumb move. She grabbed an object off the fireplace mantle and swung it at me. I didn't know what it was, only that it looked heavy and could probably kill me.

"Stay back!" She swung it again.

"Okay, okay!" I stumbled backwards with arms raised. Distance was essential. She had to know I wasn't there to harm her. "Calm down. Calm down. Please. Okay? Listen, I'm a friend of Bella's."

She tilted her head to the side. "A friend of Bella's?"

"Yeah." I smiled. It was a small, impulsive response to my nerves.

She glared and pointed her weapon at me again. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Look, you can ask her when she comes home, okay?"

The thought of seeing Bella made my pulse pound with excitement. This whole thing, like stalking her and breaking into her home, was idiotic. I just hoped she would see the humor in all this…or at least not file a restraining order against me.

"I'm Bella," she said with conviction, quickly regaining my attention. "_I _live here."

"What?" Those words didn't make sense to me. I didn't hear her right. "Your name's Bella?"

She nodded.

"And you live _here_?"

"Yeah."

_No, no, no. _

That can't be true. I looked around the room. No, this was Bella's house. I'd heard her in the restaurant. I followed her here. There were the shoes and the knick-knacks…and everything, but nothing made sense.

"No…" I stood there as the wave of disappointment pulled me under.

All of the hope I held onto being with the girl who broke me was sucked out and I couldn't breathe. Suffocating on my sorrow, I felt lost and incomplete. There was nothing left of my heart now. I'd chipped away the last bit, clinging to dream that'll never come true. The nightmare was very real, and it hurt.

It fucking killed me.

"I'm calling the police," she said and rushed out of the room.

"No! Don't do that—Shit!" I took another route and cut her off in the hallway. If I didn't want to go to jail, I had to fix the damage. "Wait, hold on, okay? Let me explain—" I skidded to a stop and spotted the rose and note left on the foyer table. "Hey, look, do you see that letter there?"

She came to an abrupt halt by the door and glanced down at the note. She set down her weapon and looked back up at me. "You wrote that?"

I kept my palms facing towards her and took a small, advancing step. "Were you at Bellucci's on Friday?"

In my heart, I prayed that she would say no. Give me the hope that I wasn't crazy or imagining things. That the voice I heard that day was my Bella's. But the logical part of me knew the truth even before she said it.

"Yeah, I was."

I winced, biting back the pain and taking another step in her direction. "And did you have a room at The Drake, room 679?"

"Yeah…" she narrowed her eyes, "how do you know that?"

I felt like such an idiot.

Every piece of the puzzle was finally coming together. All the bread crumbs were received and followed. I found Bella, but she wasn't the one I was looking for. I'd been chasing this poor woman all around Chicago and she had no idea who I was. It was a classic case of mistaken identity. I'd acted like a maniac, putting my life and the future with my fiancée through hell, and for what?

"I can't believe I did this. I've been going crazy." I dug inside my coat pocket and pulled out the powder case. Taking the last step, but smart enough not to cross the invisible line, I held it out to her. "Here. That's yours."

Bella grabbed it from me and opened it. The distorted fragments and shards of glass caught the light just right and made odd shadows across her face. Many times while that was in my possession, I'd imagined what my Bella's reflection would look in it.

A beauty I will never see again.

This Bella brushed the brown hair from her eyes and scoffed. "It's broken."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." I rubbed the back of my neck with discomfort. "I'll be happy to pay for it. You know my bad luck."

She smiled, all fear erased from her eyes and this was a relief. She could have easily called the cops and had my ass thrown in jail, but didn't.

I nodded towards her in thanks. "I'm going to…"

"Wait," she got in front of me, "your hand. It's bleeding."

"Yeah," I held it up, the wound was semi-severe. It stung more than anything. I pulled out my grandfather's flannel handkerchief. "It's all right, I've got it."

"No, don't be silly." She snatched it from me. "I'm a nurse, okay? I can take care of it."

I debated with myself, knowing I should leave, but feeling obligated to let her bandage me. It was my stupidity that got me here. Maybe I was still hopeful that Bella was going to walk through that door and yell out, '_We fooled you_,'—however, unlikely.

Or maybe it was the smell of her, so much like my Bella. Maybe I wanted to feed my delusions for a little while longer. Whatever the case may be, I agreed.

"Okay," I said. "Thanks."

She smiled and nodded, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room.

**February 16, 2014**

**5:48 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

I stayed longer than intended. After Bella bandaged up my hand, she poured us a few drinks. The whiskey was aged and smooth. It didn't scorch the throat, but burned in a good way. Bella was accommodating and talked a lot about her life in Chicago as a nurse. She worked on the cardiology floor, or which she called '_The Telly Unit'_. She was twenty-eight and without a family. Her parents died when she was young.

I listened politely, staring at her face and wondering how I could've confused her with my Bella. Yes, the hair was, somewhat the same. Both a dark brown shade, but this Bella wore her hair straight. My Bella was wavy and thicker. It smelled of coconut. This Bella…well, I didn't know what her hair smelled like. I didn't dare get that close.

But nothing about the two women looked the same. Not the body stature or the way they moved. This Bella stomped her feet with a purpose. My Bella glided and danced across a room.

"You know at the restaurant, I would have betted that you were this girl I used to know." I leaned back on the couch and took another glanced at her as she was pouring us another round. "But now seeing you here, you don't look that much like her at all."

She gave me a half-smile and shrugged.

"I must have been hallucinating." I sat back up and shook my head. "I was crazy about her."

Glancing around the room, I saw the little things reminded me of my Bella. The dancer pictures hung on the walls. The smell of the air, a faint hint of her perfume was everywhere and overwhelmed me. Even the bronze ballerina she used as a weapon had screamed Bella.

But this wasn't Bella's place. She was gone. She didn't exist to me anymore. I needed to move on and accept that.

**February 16, 2014**

**11:02 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

"So what's up with the guy, the one with the Cadillac?"

Bella was chugging from a wine bottle now. "Marcus?"

"Yeah, what's his story?"

"He's been stalking me. He scares the hell out of me. That's why I was staying at the hotel…because I didn't want him to find me." She sat up straight on the couch and glanced around. "I hope he didn't follow you here."

I tried to think back to earlier this evening, but couldn't remember being trailed by the douche. She wasn't looking for a straight answer, just comfort.

"Um, I don't think so."

"Good." She took another swig. "How's your hand?"

"It's…" I held it up, everything still intact, "okay."

"I wasn't even hungry or anything."

"Actually, you know what?" I got up from the couch. "I need to get going, but thank you for everything. The bandage, not calling the cops, and not beating me to death with that bronze ballerina thing."

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I am late, you know. Very late actually, for China, so…"

She jumped up from the couch and followed me out into the hall. "China? That's funny."

"That's what my friend said too." My coat was on now, and I was in the process of wrapping my scarf around my neck when she stopped me.

"Well, maybe you should wait."

"I can't. I mean…" I was already a day behind. "I gotta go."

She stepped in front me and put her hands on my chest. "Do you really think planes are still taking off this late?"

I wasn't new to the game and I'd seen that look before. A few drinks and vulnerability was a bad combination. This wasn't good.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm scared…" she said, "of him. I haven't stayed alone here since his wife died. Would you mind if you stayed?"

"Bella, you don't even know me. I broke into your apartment and…"

"I know, I know. It's crazy, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I just think you're a nice guy. That's all."

The trust she had in me was flattering. Maybe I wasn't a creep, after all. A nice guy wasn't a bad thing to be. I couldn't let her be afraid. If staying meant that she felt safe, I would do that.

"Okay," I said.

She grinned. "Good."

"Where does a nice guy sleep?"

"A nice guy sleeps on the couch."

**February 17, 2014**

**1:35 AM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

I don't know what woke me up, but when I opened my eyes I saw Bella hovering over me. It scared the shit out of me and I sat up with a start. My heart was pounding at a painful and erratic beat. I tried to get it to slow down. It wouldn't listen. I breathed in to calm my nerves, or at least get a better grasp of the situation.

"What are you doing?" I rubbed my eyes, forcing them to focus.

"Watching you sleep," Bella said.

"What?" I still wasn't fully awake. I sat up more. "Why?"

She didn't reply, only undid her robe and let the fabric fall from her shoulders. She was naked, and her figure was vastly different from my Bella. She was fuller, more voluptuous, and I tried to stare at her breasts. It was hard not to, but somehow, I managed to keep my eyes on her face.

"Bella, I think you should…" I croaked as my body betrayed me.

"You think too much." She took my hand and placed it on her chest. She was soft and warm. I should have pulled away, but didn't. Leaning forward, she put her lips to mine and whispered. "Kiss me."

I resisted at first, giving her very little. A small peck to appease her, but she wasn't satisfied with that. She pressed her breasts into me, and I reacted. The alcohol was still coursing through my veins and I didn't think. Not about tomorrow or the next day, only now and how she felt against me. My body didn't know the difference, only my mind, and I wasn't listening.

Closing my eyes tight, I ignored the nagging voice telling me this was a mistake. You didn't know this girl. You were cheating on Kate. You're in love with Bella. This was wrong. All the reasons fired off one by one, and I should have stopped her, but it felt good to be kissed and touched again.

It's been awhile since I've slept with a woman. Kate and I were compatible in many ways, but sexually we weren't there. I was busy with work and she had crazy ideas about chastity. No sex before marriage—and that was after I put the ring on her finger. Before then, I couldn't keep her off me. We did it everywhere. Nothing was off limits. But now, I was lucky to get a handy from her.

_Excuses. Excuses. Excuses._

There was no denying how big of a bastard I was.

I let it happen because I was weak and lonely. She offered herself to me and I didn't say no because I wanted it. I needed to feel something again. The emptiness was consuming me and I couldn't live with this pain. Not tonight. No, I needed this to make me forget about her and Kate and everything. Even if it caused more pain in the long run, I had to have a moment of bliss.

Putting Kate and my conscience on the back burner, I assented to her advances. This woman who put herself out there was being used as a vehicle for the ghost of my past. I only thought of one girl.

_Bella_…

These were her lips I was kissing.

_Bella_…

This was her flesh I was touching, tasting, and enjoying.

_Bella_…

She was the one I was making love to.

_Bella…_

Why did you leave me?

_Bella…_

God, I missed you.

_Bella…_

If only I could really touch you.

"Bella," I groaned into her neck. Her hair smelled like roses. Kissing her and shoving my hips up, I further demolished all the good left in me. The Edward I'd been was gone now. An empty shell of a man…

_Bella…_

I couldn't stop thinking of her. She haunted me in my dreams and waking hours. Always there, mocking me. Even now as I put my mouth on someone else, I saw her face. This obsession to have her was driving me to terrible lengths. Right and wrong was set aside.

She did this to me.

_Bella…_

The day she left, it was so cold outside.

_Bella…_

There was snow on the ground, a clear blue sky.

_Bella…_

Wicker Park. Our place. Our place

_Bella…_

She was wearing the beanie I bought her.

_Bella…_

She smiled at me. I'll never forget.

_Bella…_

**AN: Thank you for reading. See you next Monday.**

**And a special thanks to my pre-reader, Brina. She always there and has stuck by me through thick and thin. This story will make sense in the end. I promise. **


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**April 23, 2011**

**12:06 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"Bella!" I spied her across the park standing with a couple of her friends. She was wearing my beanie. The purple knitted one. I bought it for her on our second date. God, she looked beautiful today. And like always, my reaction to seeing her was the same. Walk faster. Get closer. Breathe her in. "Bella."

She turned and smiled. It was genuine and real and all for me. The ladies in her dance company knew me. I hung around often enough and soon came to be known as Bella's boyfriend. That was a title I gladly wore. They were nice, and I think partly it was due to the fact that Bella never told them how we met or how I stalked her. That was my shame and our little secret.

Stopping short, I waited a few feet away from her and her friends, not wanting to barge in on their conversation. But I didn't hide the urgency in my stance, jumping up and down and rocking back and forth on my heels. It was half excitement to talk to her, but mostly survival. It was cold out here, subzero temperatures, and I had to keep my blood moving in my veins.

Bella said something to them that I couldn't hear and then came over to me. "Hey!"

"Hey, baby." I held her face in my hands and kissed her. A hint of cinnamon lingered on her lips and it scorched my throat with need. I fought against the urge to taste her again. "How are you?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I gotta talk to you." I rubbed her arms in an effort to create friction and keep us both warm.

She frowned, glancing back at her friends. They stared at her with a ticking clock in their eyes. "Now?"

I knew she had a class to get to, but this couldn't wait—no, more like I couldn't wait. The thing about me was my impulsivity. Bella made me act without thought. She was all gut to me.

"Yeah, it's kind of important." I gave her an apologetic shrug. "You wanna go get a drink or something? It's freezing out here."

She debated with my offer, weighing her options, but finally conceded. "Yeah, okay."

"Good." I grinned, throwing my arm over her shoulders and pulling her into my side. The closeness was to keep her warm and secure. The kiss to her forehead was just for me.

**April 23, 2011**

**12:27 PM**

**Division Street, Chicago, Illinois**

We ordered a Guinness from the tap and sat in the back of the bar. Bella's curiosity burned through her eyes, but she stayed patient and politely waited for me to get it out. I was nervous—so fucking nervous. Sweat was pouring out of me and I couldn't stop squirming in my chair. I didn't know how she would react or what she would say. Emmett told me to stop being a pussy all the time. It was easier said than done.

If I screwed this up with her, I don't know…what I would do.

"Relax." Bella smiled, covering my hands with hers. "It's just me here."

"I know, and what I gotta say…" I searched down deep for my balls. They were tucked up tight. There was no easy way to say it. This thing on the tip of my tongue was a huge deal, for not only me, but for her as well. "It's just…" I grabbed my beer and chugged it down.

"What is it?" Bella's patience ran out and now she was concerned. I knew she was probably thinking the worst.

"My friend gave my stuff to the head of this agency," I blurted. She nodded slowly, urging me to continue. "He liked it. He offered me a job in New York."

Bella's eyes got wide and she grinned. "That's great!"

It was a supportive response, and she looked thrilled, but it wasn't what I wanted from her. I wanted—fuck! I didn't know what I wanted from her. All I knew if she was offered a job in New York or wherever, I'd be proud of her at first, but upset about her possibly moving away from me.

I wouldn't be able breathe without her.

But Bella only smiled and encouraged me.

I tried to hide my disappointment. "It'll help me pay my rent, but…"

"But what? Why not?"

There were many reasons on why I didn't want to go New York. My home was in Chicago. I grew up here. My family and friends were all here. But even those things would never keep me away from furthering my dream. They understood and supported that. Those smiles and encouragement would give me the courage to go.

There was only one thing in this world I'd give up everything for.

"Move in with me."

"What?" Bella chuckled and glanced away.

Placing my hand on the side of her face to redirect her gaze back on me, I felt the smoothness of her skin under my fingertips. She was lovely and bashful. Her eyes this deep, entrancing brown, always looked through me and past my bullshit. I could be myself around her. All my obsessive ticks and verbal idiocy didn't matter because she loved me.

She was everything I wanted and needed in this life.

"I…I know it's only been a couple of months, but I just…" My heart pounded and bled for her. That was one thing I was sure of. "You're the reason I don't wanna move to New York. I wanna make my life here with you."

It was quiet for a beat and I searched her face, looking for any signs that she would say yes, but she moved away from my touch long before I could read her.

"Look, I am really late for rehearsal. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

The tone in her voice and the look in her eyes were distant and cold. Something happened and it changed in her. It was quick, unexpected, and drastic.

My hand fell limply to my lap and I slumped back in my chair. "Sure."

"Edward, trust me, okay?" She rubbed my leg in an effort to comfort and assure me. "Everything is going to be fine." She stood up and threw her bag over her shoulder. "Just meet in the park tomorrow. Same time."

"Yeah," I nodded and stared at her beer. It was half gone. The foam was flat. It was probably stale. How can that be? She only started drinking it ten minutes ago. Maybe I was over thinking it.

"Bye," she whispered and kissed my cheek.

My brain didn't even register her lips until she was already gone. I was in a daze, and I turned to watch her leave. Time slowed down. Every step she took put distance between us, and I should have followed, but I couldn't move. My eyes were fixed in one spot where she walked out of the bar. Even long after she was out of my sight, I continue to scrutinize the door.

There was this unease in my gut. It gnawed at me. I could see the marked change in her eyes, but I tried to ignore it. She needed time to digest my proposal. That's all. I'd sprung on her too fast. It was just like the other day when I asked her to marry me.

Yeah, that's all it was…shock. I should have eased her into it. Why couldn't I wait until her second beer? Bella absorbed things better when she had a few beers in her…or was that wine?

_Fuck! _

Relax, Cullen. She'll come back to me. I needed to calm down and not jump to conclusions. Bella loved me. She did. I knew that more than anything. Everything was going to be fine.

I trusted her.

Four beers, and _many_ patrons later, I paid the tab and left.

**April 24, 2011**

**3:00 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

Today has been hell for me. I was exhausted, first off, and work was mind numbing. It was the same shit all the time with stupid customers and their ridiculous technical problems.

How many times did I have to bite my tongue with them?

I lost count.

These people—Jesus Christ!

Look, asshole, you own a camera that cost you fifty bucks, no fucking wonder it's a piece of digital crap. If you wanted something worth a damn, you would have ponied-up the dough and bought yourself a Nikon D7000. We sell six of them!

When I wasn't openly berating customers on their ignorant choices of cameras, I was thinking about Bella and her reaction to my news.

That was the root of my problem.

The more I thought about it the worse it kept on getting. My insecurity flared, and I had countless panic attacks. Every few minutes I would run into the side room and use my inhaler. It's been awhile since I've had exacerbation of my asthma, but yesterday afternoon triggered it and I couldn't breathe.

And Bella never did call me. The phone sat silent on my nightstand. I watched it, willing it to ring, but it never did.

As result, I didn't sleep well…if at all.

It was cold in the park. Chicago in April was fairly warm, but this year the winter lasted longer and it was bitter. The snow caked the streets and the air dropped to a staggering below zero degrees.

I waited for her at our spot, pacing for awhile, hoping to keep me warm. It worked for the first few minutes, but then I got tired. There was a three or four benches inside a wrought iron canopy. The vines grew over the bars and interweaved themselves, and in the summer it was a gorgeous sight. It created a shade. But winter set in and all the green was gone, leaving a brown and lifeless twig.

I broke a few in my hands, needing something to expunge my frustrations.

Then the wind blew and silenced me. The canopy didn't create much of a shelter. It wasn't why I was there. This was a place Bella and I would come and eat hot dogs. It became our tradition. I'm not sure how it started. Maybe we'd met here a few times out of necessity or coincidences until it became our thing.

Now it was just me. I never felt more removed from Bella.

Where was she? I was early, but it was already twenty past the hour, and she would have been here by now. Bella was a stickler about being on time. It was cute and annoying at times, especially when I was running late (which was quite often).

It wasn't something I did purposely. I got distracted and caught up in my own bullshit. If I didn't wear a watch to remind me, I don't think I'd ever be remotely on time to anything.

But now I wish I'd shown up late.

Forty minutes have gone by and still no Bella. I didn't panic. Not yet. I just tried to keep myself warm. That's why I paced. Making foot trails in the snow, I shuffled back and forth.

My heart pounded when anyone entered the park and plummeted when I saw it wasn't Bella. Trust me, she said. Everything was going to be fine, she said. She loved me, she said. She wanted to have kids with me in France, she said.

"Where are you?" I said.

It was four now. She was an hour late. My mind raced with thoughts from the most extreme, like her being hurt, to the most logical, like her being caught up in rehearsal. Dancing was important to Bella. That was her passion. She did it beautifully. I knew it was only a matter of time before someone came by and swept her away from me.

I would follow her. She would never have to ask me. There was nothing I wouldn't do for her.

My life didn't mean much if she wasn't in it.

A chill, and then five o'clock rolled around. I double checked my watch. It was lying to me. That shit had to be broken. Time was moving too slowly for it the hands to be working that fast.

I asked a stranger who walked by, and he confirmed what I tried to deny. It was that late. The sun was setting behind the buildings. The temperature dropped a few more degrees. I was frozen to the bench. Bella stood me up. Nothing made sense. What if I was wrong and she didn't love me—no!

I pushed that nagging voice aside that told me what I didn't want to hear.

Taking two puffs off of my inhaler, I decided to stop being a passive player in this relationship and go demand Bella to give me a yes or no answer.

**April 24, 2011**

**5:20 PM**

**Leavitt Street, Chicago, Illinois**

I went to several places before going to her apartment first. She wasn't there. So then I went to the dance academy. It was my last resort and my only hope. It was in full swing when I arrived. The music was thumping loud and there were numerous dancers on the stage. None of them had the poise or grace of Bella. I didn't even have to ask. She wasn't here. She was nowhere it seemed. This didn't seem right and it worried me.

Where could she be?

My worst fear was looking more and more like a possibility.

I found her dance director and pulled him aside. "Have you seen Bella?"

He looked annoyed by my intrusive behavior, but I didn't give a shit. My only concern was finding my girl.

"Bella? She's gone on a European tour of Cabaret."

I shook my head. Gone? She left…to Europe? These words were foreign to me. The director didn't notice the pain on my face, or if he did, he chose to overlook it.

"Yeah, it happened real fast," he said, feeling the need to further explain. "They came to our rehearsal and just picked her out, and she was gone."

Gone…there was that word again. It hurt twice as much. I could feel the ache, but I pushed it down. Swallowing every bit of it, because I needed to understand how she could have left.

Sure, I could see.

I'd imagined her leaving in a hurry, going home and packing her things up. I saw it as clearly as he stood in front of me. What I couldn't see was her leaving without telling me. She knew I was waiting in the park for her since three this afternoon. My thoughts were scrambled, attempting to find reason in her actions. I came up stumped.

"Like…" My voice cracked a little and I cleared my throat, "did she say anything before she left?"

He shrugged. "Like what?"

"Like, uh…" But what was I going to say? Did she mention her boyfriend she was leaving behind? I doubted it. This guy didn't know anything. I wasn't going to get the answers here. "Cool. Thanks, man."

There was one last place I knew Bella might have left me something.

I went home.

**April 24, 2011**

**5:45 PM**

**Street Paul, Chicago, Illinois**

The red zero on my answering machine will always haunt me. No messages were left. Bella didn't call. She didn't leave a note. I had no proof that she even loved me. There was nothing at my apartment but the lingering scent of her perfume. I stood in my hallway for a long time, jamming my keys into my palm and staring at the door.

No one knocked.

All was silent, except for my hoarse and shallow breathing.

I needed some Albuterol to open my lungs, but I'd used the last bit of it running over here. The inhaler was empty. I threw it across the room. It bounced off the floor and hit the wall. It didn't have the damaging impact I'd hoped for. Unlike me, it was still completely intact. The plastic didn't chip or break away.

My mind was cracking. It split at the seams and I needed to destroy something. The anger was building up. That was the second stage of grief. I'd spent the entire day denying and ignoring the signs. When I asked Bella to move in with me, she hesitated. The fear in her eyes wasn't easily seen at the time. I was stupefied and blinded by her proximity. If I would have seen it, I wouldn't have let her walk out on me.

She was there. I felt her. I had her. I let her go.

Now she was gone, without a word.

I stumbled into my room, almost taken down by Bella's overwhelming presence. Her face was everywhere. Countless pictures I'd taken of her over the last few months were stapled to the wall above the head of my bed into a collage. I didn't think about my obsession or how all these pictures would be construed.

Bella was my muse.

She was my everything.

I closed my eyes to that face and dreamt of her smile.

Now it was mocking me.

Stripping it clean, I tore every picture from the wall into little pieces. The pile on my bed grew bigger and bigger, but I couldn't stop. I couldn't look at her anymore. Every look at those striking eyes and beautiful smile broke me further. My sanity was barely hanging on.

Once I lost that, my heart would be the next to go.

It took me one minute and forty seconds to destroy what took me three months to create. Panting for air, I staggered back and stared at the empty wall. The pictures were ripped up and now a mounting, discarded heap on my bed.

It was final.

Bella and I were over.

She left me without a word and I didn't know why.

All I knew was pain. It crept in slow, almost insidiously, and grew until it was crushing me. My heart was being squeezed and snatched out of my chest. I bled and bled, feeling the man who loved without boundaries or fear seep into the floorboards and disappear.

Pushing the torn pieces of my Bella off the bed, I pulled the covers over my head and let the tears fall. Once I started, I couldn't stop. This was the hardest I'd cried. It hurt to breathe, and soon my gasps of air became sobs. My whole life revolved around her. I'd given up everything just to be with her, because I was going to marry her. We were going move to France and make wine together. She was going to be the mother of my dull-haired kids.

That was the plan.

I wanted that with her.

Why didn't she want that with me?

**AN: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know nothing really makes sense now, but the point is that it will by the end of the story. In the meantime, I hope you're having fun and enjoying the mystery. **

**A special thanks to Brian, my pre-reader and beastie for life. You're my tattoo dealer and I love it. **


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 18, 2014**

**9:34 AM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

It was equivalent to waking up from a year long coma. The dream vivid and real, it stayed with me and caused a strong aching in my chest. I opened my eyes to bright white and thin cloth. The smell of Bella lingered on it. For a moment, I assumed the aftershock of the memory followed me to my waking hours. This was the way she would torture me night after night after she left, but it was too strong and too tangible now. Things only seemed to go from bad to worse when I pulled the sheet down away from my face and found a different pair of eyes staring back at me.

"Hi," this Bella said.

"Hi," I mumbled.

_Oh, fuck, oh fuck. What did I do?_

My mind searched the foggy parts of my brain to come up with why I was in bed with this woman. The headache pulsating behind my eyes told me there was a lot of whiskey involved. Shit—so many God damn shots. I only knew one thing from drinking: alcohol only led to poor judgment and irrevocable acts of depravity.

I didn't—no, I wouldn't do that to Kate…would I?

The uncomfortable silence continued. My thoughts racing, trying in vain to turn back time and change the part where I agreed to stay overnight. It wasn't working. I was still here in this bed wondering what the hell happened.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" she asked.

"Um," my voice raspy and rough, "yeah, sure, thanks."

"Okay." She smiled and sat up in the bed.

The sheets slipped down and revealed her bare back. The rose tattoo on her shoulder caught my interest. It was a small bud, detailed and a faded red from years of wear. I couldn't stop myself from following her movements. It was my curiosity rearing its ugly head. Was she fully naked under there _or_…but all that was answered a second later when she grabbed her silk robe and stood up. The lower back dimples and ass were all there for me to see. I quickly glanced away and peeked under my side of the covers, and hoped to God, by some fucking miracle, I was fully clothed.

Not a chance. My shame had risen to the occasion and was staring up at me in mockery.

"Oh, fuck," I said under my breath.

She gathered her clothes from the floor and looked back at me. I put on a smile. It wasn't one of my best, but Bella didn't notice the difference and walked out of the room.

I scrambled from the bed and searched for my pants. My briefs were on a chair, but nothing else. The rest of my stuff was in the living room where I'd left them last night.

Out of everything, I remembered that much.

If I wanted to be dressed by the time she returned with the coffee, I needed to do some ninja shit and sneak out into the living room without her catching me.

Doing what I could to keep my footsteps silent, I crept into the hallway and caught of glimpse of her in the kitchen. The angle wasn't the best, but she looked flustered. The zip on her dress was down, and she kept pushing her bangs away from her face. She cursed a few times, opening and slamming cabinet doors with a loud bang.

She was momentarily distracted with…something.

This was my chance to gather my clothes and get the hell out of dodge. The thought crossed my mind. But my asshole tally was reaching its maximum limit and I believed in karma. And at the rate I was going, I would be coming back as Emmett's sweaty nut sack, without a doubt.

If that shit was even possible.

God knows I deserved it.

Back in her bedroom, I rushed to get dressed. It was chaotic. My hand and eye coordination sucked and I got my foot stuck in the pant leg a few times. Slowing myself down, I was able to put my slacks on without incident. And I was in the motion of putting my shirt on when Bella came back carrying a tray with two champagne flutes filled to the brim with coffee and a bowl of sugar cubes. She sat down on the bed beside me and put the tray between us.

There was something odd about her, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"He broke all my cups," she explained.

"That's original."

It just came out, and she laughed, but it wasn't the same. It was awkward and uncomfortable and nothing like the truthful, hearty laugh my girl would give me in response to my lame jokes.

"Sugar?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks."

The spoon clanked against the glass as she stirred the cube around. I buttoned my shirt and kept my eyes locked on the picture in front of me. It was a black and white painting of ballet shoes stuffed into a box. Abstract art, I guess, but it sparked a memory. I've seen this before.

"Here." Bella pushed the tray towards me and it hit my thigh.

"Thank you," I said, and without looking, I picked up the scorching hot flute and gulped the coffee down. It burned, but I didn't give a shit. I needed the caffeine.

"To us…" She held out her glass to mine.

_Shit_, I thought, quickly pulling it away from my mouth and clinking with hers. She smiled and turned away. I didn't say anything back. But what did we just toast to?

_To us_…

Those words repeated themselves in my head.

_To us. To us...TO US?_

What did that mean? Did she really think we were a couple now? I was a creepy guy who broke into her apartment last night. She didn't know me. We had sex, sure, but that was a drunken mistake. She had to know that, right? Damn it, I couldn't think here. I needed to get out—and fast.

We sipped on our coffee in an awkward silence and kept all eye contact to a minimum. I was trying to figure out how to leave without sounding like an asshole. This wasn't like me to sleep with a random stranger, especially when I was committed to someone else, with no interest of ever seeing them again. I didn't do one night stands. I wasn't a cheater.

_Fuck_!

What do other guys say? What would Emmett say? I wish I could call him and ask, but I didn't even want him to know that I was capable of such a horrible thing. I couldn't believe I had done it. But it was done, and I had to deal with it.

If only I could keep this discretion between Bella and me, I could go to China and then come back home to Kate. I would marry her and vow to be the man I promised her from the beginning. We could be happy together.

And then maybe after some time and passing years, this regrettable shame of mine would fade out like a bad dream.

Or so I hoped.

Bella set down her glass and got up from the bed. I watched her put on her boots and zip them up.

"Leaving?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've got work." She reached for her red coat and yellow scarf. "I'm due at the hospital in an hour."

"That's right," I glanced down at my well bandaged hand and smiled, "you're a nurse."

"For about eight years now." She walked towards me and stopped a foot away. There was an obvious unease in her stance. "You should stay."

I bit my tongue and shrugged a bit, glancing around as if I was considering it, but didn't say a thing. She didn't need to know that the moment she leaves, I was gone. If I'm lucky, I can get a flight out of here this afternoon. Not sure how everything was going to pan out. It was already Tuesday and I missed my Monday flight. My meeting was set for tomorrow at nine in the morning. That didn't leave me much of a leeway to get there, but I was Mr. Cutting-it-short, and being on time for me had always happened on accident.

"You have a key?" She took another step, and the closer and closer she got to me the more I felt suffocated by her.

It was somewhere in my coat pocket.

"Yeah," I croaked out as barely intelligible response.

"Well, I should be back by ten…" Then she asked the one thing I dreaded hearing. "Will I see you later?"

If I was sly, I would feed her some bullshit to make her feel better.

But I wasn't that guy.

If I was truthful, I would explain to her whatever happened between us last night didn't mean what she wanted it to. It was a mistake. I wasn't her boyfriend, nor will I ever be. It would be better to go our separate ways and forget about it. I was in love with another girl and about to get married to another girl named Kate.

But I wasn't that big of dick. All I was trying to do at this point was muddle through an awkward situation with some dignity intact.

"Maybe."

This Bella saw through my words, I could see the rejection written all over her face, but she didn't call me on it.

She took the last and final step into me, placing a light kiss on my cheek. I flinched, but didn't turn my head towards her to reciprocate. She pulled back and gave me a forced, yet sad smile. "Bye."

"Bye."

I stayed on my spot on the bed and listened to the sounds as she left the apartment. The pressure of being a liar was released in one long exhale. My hands flew to my hair and I yanked at it. It hurt, but the physical pain was a distraction and a punishment. How could I be so stupid and careless? How could I allow shit to go this far? This obsession ruled every aspect of life and I did things that were unforgivable. Was this the Edward Kate knew? Have I lost myself completely?

Even now as I stood up and looked into the mirror, I didn't recognize the man with such heavy sadness staring back at me.

Going into the living room, I grabbed my jacket from the couch and went to the window Bella was standing at last night. It showed a clear view of North Kenmore Street below. It'd snowed four to six inches, but the morning sun and constant traffic had turned it into slush.

Bella came rushing out of the apartment building and ran across the street. She got into her car, but I didn't stick around to watch her drive away. Besides, I needed to leave.

It was already close to ten in the morning and I had a list of things to do. A ticket for China needed to be booked and all my bags were still over at Emmett's. It was going to be a two to three hour ordeal. That was assuming I could get a flight out of here on such short notice.

I went back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. I'm not sure why, but there was something about this place that felt like my Bella. All the paintings and knick-knacks were so fucking familiar. I'd seen them before, but it wasn't just that. There were the shoes, the black and red ones with the broken heel and undeniable size of eight in a half.

Scrubbing my face with my hands, I tried to dispel Bella from my head. I decided to stop torturing myself. This was crazy. I needed to stop making connections where they didn't exist. Bella didn't live here. She left me three years ago without the intention of ever returning.

China and Kate were my future now.

End of story.

**February 18, 2014**

**12:45 PM**

**Chicago O'Hare Airport**

**Bessie Coleman Drive, Chicago, Illinois**

After waiting in line for over an hour, I was finally at the counter, but my progress of getting out of Chicago wasn't any better. The ticketing cashier was searching for a flight for me, but words like 'tomorrow' and 'Friday' kept popping up. My headache was worse with its relentless pounding. It'd fucked up my vision and I'd rubbed my eyes to counteract the blur. But now they were raw and tearing.

I could only imagine how I looked.

"No," I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. "It has to be tonight."

"Well," she glanced up from her computer, "I would say the 10:15 flight to Los Angeles would be your best bet. Then you can take the flight to Shanghai from there, but there are only coach seats available and your tickets were for first class."

I smiled and shrugged. "That's all right. I don't mind."

Her tense posture relaxed, shoulders easing back down, and an unusual look came over her. I'm not sure what she expected from me. But from what I could tell, she gets a lot of rich assholes who were entitled to the world that came through here. Any other man in a suit would've yelled at her. I wasn't that guy.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "I think I can get you an upgrade. Why don't you come back in a few hours—around four? Something should pop up by then."

Maybe she pitied me or something, I looked like hell, but I was grateful for her generosity.

"Okay." I put my credit card back into my wallet. "Thank you. I'll see you at four."

Walking out of the airport, I decided to hail a cab back to Emmett's. I needed a hot shower and clean clothes. The suit and tie combo I'd been sporting since Saturday was wrinkled and smelled of bad decisions.

_Speaking of which_…

Taking the key out of my pocket, I looked at it for the last time. It amazed me how heavy it felt between my fingers. Yesterday it had been the answer to everything. It got me one step closer to finding her. I was a hopeful and naïve man. That one thing I'd ever wanted was within my grasp and it drove me crazy. I didn't look before I jumped and the landing had been hard. It flattened me, changing who I was and how I saw the world around me. My vision of Bella was skewed for the first time and her image was slowly fading away.

I felt hollow, and this silver thing in my hand was just another key to some apartment in Wicker Park.

It represented nothing. I had no use for it. Hanging on to it was like holding on to the past, or a distant memory of a better, happier life. Those things weren't real. They never were. It was an illusion. Bella was dream, something I'd imagined into perfection.

But I was awake now and wanted nothing more than just to forget everything about her.

Stopping by a sidewalk crate, I crouched down and tossed the key into the drain.

And that's that.

**A/N: This chapter had another scene to it, but I was passed my word limit. We'll catch up next week. So Edward is going to China. A lot of readers thinking he should have done it days ago, and I would agree to an extent. The poor guy never got closer. Bella abandoned him. He got a little desperate. Anyway, thank you for reading. See you next week.**

**To my bestie, Brina, I heart you like crazy and miss you terribly. Sorry we don't talk more. It sucks. Let's fix it.**


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 18, 2014**

**1:54 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

"So, she had the same name, same perfume, and same shoe size?" Emmett asked, and I nodded behind a stack of boxes he'd piled on my lap.

I'd failed to mention that it wasn't the same shoe size that made it creepy. It was the identical black and red heel Bella bought from this store three years ago. My mind still couldn't square that away, so I opted to ignore it.

"That's…that's so hot!" he said, and the look he gave me, scrunched up face and all, as the actualization of the circumstances behind the similarities of these two '_Bellas' _dawned on him. It almost made me laugh. "Or…or maybe this is creepy."

"I think it's a little bit of both, actually."

The crazy part was I couldn't get Bella number two out of my head. It was a different obsession—a regrettable one. I wanted to forget everything about her, the way she smiled and talked, even that smell that caused my chest to ache. But as the day wore on, I started to remember more and more about last night. The sex, her face in the dim moon light, and how she kissed me…with so much more than just passion. There was longing and depth to it. It was different.

It was…strange.

This sensation in my gut went way beyond the typical guilt of cheating on my fiancée. I felt used and lied to. Like I'd been set up, but how? I broke into her apartment, right? I'm the one who surprised her.

"So, did you hit it?"

My head shot up and I met Emmett's gaze. He was smirking, both eyebrows raised and quirked. The shame of my thoughts almost broke through my flat demeanor, but somehow, I kept a straight face and answered on reflex.

"What? No."

"No, no, no," he repeated the word, scoffing and rolling his eyes.

The asshole knew. When he greeted me this morning with a hug, I remember him making a remark about me having a good night. I'd been wrapped up in my own shit, it didn't fucking register to me what he meant by it. But I reeked of Bella. She was everywhere: in my clothes, in my hair, and on my skin. If my immune nose could still smell her on me, I knew Emmett's untouched nose could.

But I kept with the story, unwilling to admit to my deed to myself—let alone my best friend.

"What, man?" My voice raised an octave or two in defense. "I slept on the couch, you know? When I woke up in the morning she was gone."

He grabbed another box from pile and waggled it at me. "But you wanted to."

"Oh, come on."

He was being ridiculous now.

"No, you come on, Eddy. You're trying to tell me it never crossed your mind?"

"No, it didn't."

"Right, okay, Eddy."

I wasn't a man driven by his organ and his insinuation pissed me off.

"Look, I am going to China tonight, and I am practically married. Do I need to remind you?"

"The lies we tell ourselves."

I shook my head to protest, but I knew the truth behind his words. I may have not initiated the sex, but I didn't stop it. Cheating wasn't black and white. There were gray areas with clear lines that weren't meant to be crossed. I'd been cheating on Kate since Friday. The moment I chased after Bella's ghost and lied to my fiancée about my whereabouts, I'd taken a knife and severed her trust.

A lump was forming in my throat, but this time the guilt wasn't so easy to swallow. I needed a distraction to get the focus off me and my fucked up life.

"So," I broached after a brief silence, "what about you and Rose—how's that? How was your date?"

Emmett gave a half-hearted shrug. "It was great."

"Good," I said, but I continued to stare at him, waiting for more details he wasn't divulging.

He leaned back against the shelf. "I mean, what, do you wanna hear about it?"

"I don't know." I could hear the annoyance in his voice. Was I prying? Maybe it was a bad idea to ask. But I wanted to know. I've told him all my deep and dark secrets concerning Bella…well, Bella number one, preferably. "Yeah, sure."

Their date started at the theatre. Rose was wrapping up rehearsals for upcoming play. Emmett stayed in the audience and watched for a bit. He didn't like her director. The guy was an asshole, he explained to me. Rose's acting was above anything Emmett ever seen and far better than any of the dinky little productions she put herself in.

"She belongs on Broadway or something," he ranted. "She's that awesome."

I smiled at him. He was protective of Rose. He liked her a lot. I saw it in the way he spoke her name or described spending time with her. He reminded me of the way I acted after meeting Bella. But I was worse. The poor guy had to sit through months and months of my annoying blathering about the way Bella said this or did that. It was nice to see him finally meet a girl who made him act like an idiot. It was a great feeling. I just hoped he would never have to experience the pain when that girl and that feeling go away and disappear.

Emmett wouldn't recover.

"It was super late by the time she got changed. So, we went out, had a couple of drinks and a couple of laughs. On the way home, I told her the whole sordid story about you and Bella."

I cringed. "Sordid?"

He waved off my concerns, taking the last box from my pile and putting it on the shelf. "We went back to my place and had sex all night. And the next morning, I made her my dad's world's famous breakfast and I don't know. It was pretty perfect."

"That sounds really good, man."

"It was pretty good."

"So," I shoved him back, "when do I get to meet her?"

"Tonight." Emmett's eyes widened. "Yeah, tonight. Tonight is her—she's got this play. It's the big opening. It's Shakespeare."

My stomach tightened. "Shakespeare?"

"Shakespeare. I know." Emmett was apologetic. "But it's supposed to be good."

When Bella's camcorder came back fixed, I hooked it up to the nearest television and played the audio. I managed to hear a few minutes of her reading Shakespeare before Esme came in and caught me. That was all it took. No adaptation of his words since then could match up to the beauty and passion Bella had put into it. It was another reminder of the loss of her and I avoided it at all costs.

Emmett knew what he was asking of me to come to this play.

I glanced at my watch. "I'm supposed to leave tonight."

"Yeah, but it's early, man. Go to the play and get on the plane."

Life was simple in Emmett's world. He walked with this easygoing confidence. Nothing was as big or as bad as it seemed and overcoming any obstacle was possible. All it took was hard work and positive thinking. My breakup with Bella was no different. I remember how he tried to reinforce this belief into me.

And I wanted to believe that.

But for three years, everyday thinking about Bella and how she left without a word took a small part of me. Little by little it would accumulate, and the man I used to be was slowly being chipped away. I kept a fraction of what was left and held on to it tight. I loved Kate with it.

And for awhile, I was okay with that. I was surviving.

But when I heard Bella's voice on Friday, I was reminded on what being whole felt like. It was an addiction. I needed it. That obsession and drive to have it again led me on a search for her. I was insane with hope with endless possibilities for our happiness.

Loving my Bella was all I ever wanted to do.

Then reality came hard and fast. It knocked me around and dissolved the last bit of Edward that I'd held on to for so long. He was gone, and this empty man with sad eyes was left behind.

There was nothing for me to believe in now.

So what could a little Shakespeare play actually hurt?

**February 18, 2014**

**3:02 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

After a quick shower, I packed all my things up and debated on calling Kate. The time difference was a factor. There would be no reason for me to call her now. It was after four in the morning in China. I wasn't an early riser. She would know something was up and I didn't want to lie to her anymore. I'm not even sure if staying with her was the right thing to do. My actions spoke louder than any words I'd ever told her. Love meant something, and I didn't want to throw it around carelessly.

Kate deserved better than that.

She deserved better than me.

But I couldn't let her go. There was a part of me lost that she still had. The man she met, no matter how one dimensional he may be, it was something tangible. It was more than what I had now. I hoped by being with her that I would be reminded…fixed, somehow.

My selfishness reached a new low.

Even after everything that I've done, I would stay with Kate just so I could feel normal?

_Fuck_! I needed to get out of this town.

Chicago, like I feared, was pulling me down into this black hole. It sucked the life out of me. Distance was the key to my survival. It put air in my lungs and blood in my veins. I could function like a person, not some emotionally crippled madman.

My mind was made up by the time I threw my bag over my shoulder. I didn't know how to tell Emmett. He was counting on me to be there for him, but I couldn't stay here any longer. I was choking all the time. No Albuterol or five hundred dollars an hour therapy session was going to fix me.

Maybe running to a different continent will.

It worked for Bella.

I opened the door to Emmett's store. "Hey, Em, can I talk to you for a second?"

He was finishing up with a customer, but it didn't take long and he met me outside a second later.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Hey. I just wanted to say thanks, man, for everything, and," I patted him on the shoulder, "you know, you've been great."

"What? What about the play? I thought you were coming."

I shoved my hands in deeper into my pockets and glanced around at my own personal hell. "I don't wanna miss another flight, you know?"

He didn't say anything. I felt bad, but he would thank me later. I'm not the best person to be around right now.

"Look, I'll make it up to you when I get back, okay? I promise." Another pat and I was on the curb, ready to hail a cab. The commute time to the airport with no traffic and going twenty over the speed limit was still an hour away. I was already late. "Hey, Taxi!"

Emmett followed me down to the sidewalk. "Eddy."

"But hey, listen, man, you have fun tonight for me, all right? Say hi to Rose for me, and, you know." I smiled, remembering how he spoke about her. He had something to live for now. I envied that. "You're a lucky guy."

"I really want you to come to the play. Please?"

There was a hint of desperation in his voice. It stopped me for a second. I was confused.

"What's going on?"

He was avoiding eye contact and bouncing nervously on his heels. "You see, um, things are not going all that well with Rose. I've been exaggerating a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Lying." He winced. "Uh! I've been lying through my teeth because my life is so pathetic."

"No all-night marathon?"

"No, God! I'm lucky if I get a kiss at the end of the night."

All these stories of getting girls and being the man were all bullshit. I always knew that, but never said anything because he told it well. He was never the serial monogamist, not like me, but he wasn't this grand womanizer. Emmett liked women, and would have a million if he could. But this girl was different. He didn't hold on to lie to save face.

"So I was thinking, if you came to the play I think that would really help. I mean, I'd be so much more confident with you there."

I was still hesitant. "I don't know, man."

"And then I can go to the bathroom, and you can tell her, you know, what a great guy I am and rumor has it that I'm really great in the sack. I'm hung like a camel—I don't know."

I laughed.

"Please? I wouldn't ask if it didn't mean a lot to me."

What was one more hour in this city? A play was better way to pass time than sitting in an airport terminal with my thoughts.

I gripped his shoulder. "I'll be there."

"You're the best." He pulled me into a hug. "Thanks, buddy."

"You're welcome, man."

The cab pulled up to the curb and the brakes squealed to a stop.

"It's at 7:30, all right?" Emmett reminded me. "Don't be late."

"I'll be there."

"Here you go." Emmett was kissing my ass now, opening the door for me and everything.

"See you, brother." I got into the cab and closed the door.

Emmett pointed and shouted through the glass. "You're the man."

**February 18, 2014**

**4:15 PM**

**Chicago O'Hare Airport**

**Bessie Coleman Drive, Chicago, Illinois**

"You're on flight 1559. First class." The cashier, Emily, (which I'd recently learned by looking at her name tag), slid the boarding pass across the desk and into my hands. She was proud of her hard work and it was evident in the smile she gave me. "Have a safe trip."

"I will. Thanks."

There was nothing else to say. She did a nice thing for me. I didn't care how I got out of this city, coach or first class, as long as I was in China by Thursday. I'm not sure if I was even expected or welcomed by them anymore. The last time I spoke to the office was on Friday. No one called to check up on my condition or ask about my missed flight the day before. I was going through the motions of my broken promises at this point.

I had no past or future. With my life hanging in limbo, China was all I had.

Walking out of the airport, a breeze picked up and I felt Bella again. It hadn't been this strong since the resturant. The nagging doubt and unease was creeping up. What if I was wrong? There was something about the situation that didn't feel right. Nothing fit or made sense, and I couldn't keep ignoring the facts.

No matter how crazy I was or how badly I wanted something, there was no way in hell I would ever confuse Bella's voice for the woman I'd found in the apartment last night. The pitches in speech weren't close enough to be mistaken. Then the black heels and red soles with a size of eight in a half.

That was too coincidental.

I was talking myself in circles. There was only one way to be sure that Bella was gone.

Glancing down, I was caught by surprise to see the sewer grate at my feet. The key I dropped in there a few hours priors was still there. It was reflecting the overhead sun and calling out to me. Even if I was wrong and there was a logical explanation for everything, I needed to have closure to that chapter in my life. Wondering for three years was what kept this wound fresh. I never healed from the break.

Crouching and bending over, I tried to pry my fingers between the bars of the grate to retrieve it. The key was an inch to two inches away from the surface, surrounded by sludge and discarded cigarette butts. It was a tight squeeze, and I strained and grunted, barely feeling the smooth metal at the end of fingertips.

My arm was aching.

"Fuck!" Standing up frustrated, I shed all of my bags and dropped them to the ground. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and went in for round two.

Determined, I shoved my hand further down, getting closer this time. The tip of my nail got the edge of the key and flipped it upwards. It was less than a millimeter away from my grasp, but it didn't make it easier to get. Stretching and contorting my body as far as I could, I managed to clamp the top half of the key between my pointer and middle fingers. It could slip at any moment.

I dreaded that outcome.

What the fuck would I do then? Spend all day here fighting with this thing or call the city to have them pry open the grate? I was crazy enough to do both.

Slowly and carefully, I pulled it back up to the surface and closed my fist around it.

"Shit," I said out of pure fucking exhaustion.

The sweat had gathered on my forehead again, and I opened my palm, staring down at the silver breadcrumb in disbelief. All the effort for something I regarded as a problem and wanted to get rid of mere hours ago.

But things change. It was back in my hands now and I knew exactly what to do with it.

**AN: Three more chapters and then you can go watch the movie. Thanks for reading. I'll see you soon.**

**Brian, I love you, man. Beasties for life.**


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 18, 2014**

**6:20 PM**

**Ashland Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

Emmett's store was closed for the night when I arrived, but his cashier was still inside finishing up things. I tapped on the door window and she let me in without hesitation. Emmett was already gone from upstairs, and I told the her that I left my wallet in his apartment. She nodded, not asking anymore questions, and allowed me to take the inside stairs from the back of the store by the stock room. Emmett never locked that door.

Once inside his apartment, I grabbed myself a beer and waited for his cashier to leave. There was one thing I needed from downstairs and I had little time to get it. Rose's play started in an hour or so and the theater was all the way in Highland Park. If I didn't want to be late and piss Emmett off, I needed to get down there and find it fast.

_Fuck!_ What if they weren't there? It's been three years, after all. I didn't know much about manufactures or how long they continued producing the same product before discontinuing it. This was a last minute plan of mine, and it didn't guarantee an answer, but I was on the verge of completely losing my mind. The inconsistencies were endless and shit didn't add up.

I heard the door close around seven. The cashier hailed a cab and drove off. By this time, I was already on my third beer. It calmed my chaotic thoughts. Grabbing my bags, I went downstairs and plowed into the stockroom. My memory was hazy, and I couldn't remember where Emmett stocked these particular heels.

He was meticulous. I didn't have a hard time finding the brand or style. They'd changed over the years, a small and barely noticeable difference, but all I was concerned about was the black and red. That repeated in my head like a mantra.

I pulled the box from the middle shelf and smiled. "Fellini."

**February 18, 2014**

**7:56 PM**

**Sheridan Road, Highland Park, Illinois**

The play was in progress by the time I arrived. Emmett left me a ticket at Will Call. I crept in as quietly as I could, navigating my way through the darkness. Emmett obtained seats close to the stage. He saw me coming down the stairs and waved me over. He didn't seem upset.

"Hey, glad you made it," he whispered.

"Sorry, man," I whispered back, squeezing in between people. "Traffic was…"

"Doesn't matter," he said. "I'm just glad you're here."

I took off my coat, still standing by my seat, and glanced up on stage. Emmett told me Rose was one of the female leads in this play. It was hard to tell who she was. All of the actor's faces were painted white.

"Sit down." Emmett grabbed my arm and forced me into the chair.

"Sorry," I said, and through my poor vision, I squinted to find her. There were two actors on stage. The one with the most charisma and depth was a flashing beacon. I didn't even have to ask. "Is that her?"

"That's my girl." Emmett brimmed with pride.

The play wasn't horrible. I'd seen worse adaptations of Shakespeare. It was Rose who stole the show. She came on and commanded everyone's attention. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. It was hard to see what she looked like. The white make-up obscured her features and she kept turning away from the audience. We had to strain and stretch our bodies to see her. But all and all, it was good. She was fantastic. I could see why Emmett was crazy about her.

When the show ended, the entire audience erupted and gave the actors a standing ovation. Rose was put out into center stage. The auditorium went wild. She gazed down at her feet the entire time. Not once looking up or acknowledging the praise. She either was shy or very humble.

"She's incredible, man," I said.

"I know."

"Look, I should really get to the airport."

"Oh, no, man, if you gotta go, you should go. I mean, I know Rose is going to be really disappointed that she didn't get to meet you."

"Well, tell her she did a great job, okay? And I'll see you on Monday." I held my hand out to him, and for the first time since we stood, he took his eyes off her and faced me.

"Yeah, Eddy, thank you for everything." Emmett hugged me and pulled back, all smile gone. "I'm sorry you didn't find Bella."

"Yeah. Me too." I picked up my bags and patted his back. "I'll see you around."

"All right, man." And that was it, he went back to clapping for his girl and I was out of the theater.

Coming out into the Chicago cold, I stopped in the middle of the road. Glancing in both directions, I checked the time on my watch. It was 9:00. If I caught a cab now, I would barely catch my flight at 10:15. It would be a smart thing to get on that plane and forget about these last few days. I knew this more than I knew the sun was going to rise and set tomorrow. But I couldn't make myself go. The key was in my hand and doubt in my heart.

I needed to know. It was as simple as that. My life and sanity depended on these answers. All these wasted years of wondering and not putting forth the effort to find out. There was no other road for me. The one that led to Bella—whoever she may actually be, was all I could see.

One foot in front of the other in the snow, shuffling and walking until I was hailing a cab. The address was out of my mouth before the guy had a chance to ask.

**February 18, 2014**

**10:15 PM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

I knocked on the door. No answer. I waited for a minute before knocking again. Yet still, nothing. Bella wasn't home. I thought about sitting on the stairs until she came back, but my memory vaguely recalled her saying something about being at the hospital until ten tonight. She should be home at any minute. But she also told me that I could stay.

She gave me her permission to hang out and it wouldn't be creepy or breaking and entering for her to find me inside waiting for her, right?

That was all the reason I needed to use the key and let myself back into her apartment. It was quiet, but the smell of her was still strong. I set the bag down and closed the door behind me.

Making my way through the halls, I picked up the bronze ballerina Bella threaten my life with. It was heavy. I carried it around with me, putting it back on the mantle over the fireplace. There were no personal photos in this apartment. I found that odd, but not everyone was sentimental or had a family to hang in a frame. I didn't know much about this Bella, so I couldn't peg her into a certain category. My Bella didn't have many pictures of her family. Most of it was lost in a fire when she was six years old. Only one photo album remained and she carried it with her.

She didn't trust to leave it behind, not even at my apartment. God knows I tried many times to assure her that it would be safe, but she was stubborn and protective. I loved that about her.

Going into the kitchen, I expected the normal things a person would find in a place someone habituated….like food, for example. But the cupboards were bare and the refrigerator was practically empty. Only single thing of baking soda was left in the side door. That indicated the person who lived in this apartment was going to be gone for some time.

"That's…" I trailed off, spinning on my heel and rushing to the bedroom. I skidded to a stop and eyes popped out. The bed was made. Someone had been here. I went over to the closet and opened the double-mirror doors. The force of the wind swung the empty hangers. "What the fuck?"

Last night, I knew for a fact, when I hid in here, there were clothes. It drove me out of my mind because they smelled so much like my Bella.

The next thing I knew, I was opening all the dresser drawers in the room. Nothing was in them. This whole apartment was cleaned out, but when did that happen and why? I sat on the bed, looking around this room and that picture hanging on the wall. Bella two told me she was a nurse, but nothing else. This apartment told me something more. Everything in this place had something do with dancing and ballet. Even the coffee mugs (which I found in a cabinet beside the stove) had dance companies and shows on them. The same shows my Bella had been a part of.

I tried to ignore the lie she told me about her ex-boyfriend breaking all her shit. At this point, I conceded to the fact this Bella wasn't who she said she was.

Then there were the collective shot glasses with varies cities in Europe—fucking France was one of them.

Even the wine and whiskey brands were the ones Bella drank: Blaue Maus, Slyrs, and Sigel No. 7—pure German, just like my girl.

Why didn't I see it?

And then there was the obvious color scheme, from the bedding to the curtains to the throw pillows on her couch, was the same as Bella's old apartment. Red and orange were her favorite colors. They reminded her of a sunset. I remembered her telling me that so clearly on our fourth date, because I thought she was more beautiful than any sunset God could create.

I never told her that.

Endless regrets of things I should've said, but didn't.

Well, I was over being the passive type. This apartment was my Bella's. There was no convincing me otherwise, and I was going to wait right here for her or the other Bella to return.

It was passed eleven at night and one of them will be home soon. It was just a matter of time.

I'm not sure when I fell asleep.

**February 19, 2014**

**9:30 AM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

I don't know if I was relieved or disappointed when I awoke to find the apartment still empty, but my mind was starting to fuck with me again. Sleep was restless, nightmares and good dreams mixed into one. Bella's eyes a beautiful, warm brown stared at me until they turned an icy blue. It was a contrast in colors, so blindingly obvious. Nothing was the same between these two women, maybe their name, but that was it.

The phone was in my hand, I wasn't sure if calling Emmett was the brightest thing to do, but I needed him to tell me I was crazy. Maybe knock some fucking sense into me, because I couldn't even decide what was real anymore. Or maybe, I hoped he would tell me I wasn't crazy. The signs were too cut and dry. I needed him to tell me something, no matter what. Because keeping this to myself was proving to be too exhausting.

Four rings later, the other line picked up. "_Hello_?"

It was a woman's voice. Not what I expected and it threw me.

"Hello?" I said back.

"_Who's this_?" she asked.

"This is Edward," I said with a smile. "Who's this?"

There was some distortion on the other end. I waited for Rose to answer, but I got Emmett's scratchy, lazy-drawl voice instead. "_Hello_?"

"Hello? Emmett?"

"_Hey, what's up, kid? I thought you left."_

"No, uh…" Fuck. Where do I begin?

"_What are you still doing here_?"

"I'm over at the girl's apartment." God, it even sounded insane saying it out loud.

"_You went __**back**__ to the crazy girl's house? What the hell are you doing there? I'm starting to worry about you, man."_

"I'm starting to worry myself. It's not just that. I couldn't even get on the airplane. The thing is…" I sighed and looked around the bedroom, "there is just something about this apartment. It's like Bella's been here. I know this sounds insane, but I think this is her place, man."

"_Maybe you're just hot for this crazy girl."_

I laughed. "Maybe."

"_And the first thing you gotta do is get out of her apartment and get over here. I got some stuff to tell you too. I had the most amazing night with Rose."_

"All right, I'll be over in a few, just give me a couple of minutes, okay?"

"_All right, I'll wait. Later." _

Then the line went dead. I stood up from my spot on the floor and walked to the kitchen. My coat was on the counter where I left it last night. Setting the phone down, I put it on. No one was going to return. If Bella did live here, all the missing clothes and lack of food told me she was going to be gone for a long time. My window of opportunity was closed.

_Why I am still here_?

Surrendering to defeat, I moved to leave this place behind, but then the phone rang.

I stared at it with my heart racing, debating on a haggard breath whether or not to answer it, but with the possibility of it being Bella, I couldn't control myself not to.

"Hello?"

"_Hello_!" a woman's voice boomed through the receiver. It wasn't the one I was hoping for, but this one will have to do. The feeling of anger, distrust, and suspicion came rising to the surface.

"Hi," I said.

"_Hey_," she chuckled nervously, "_Um, I'm sorry I didn't come back. My double shift ended up turning into a triple and I couldn't get away_."

_Right, and then explain to me how your apartment got itself cleaned out yesterday? It was unusual circumstances for a woman stuck at work all day, don't you think?_

But of course, I didn't say all that shit. I needed her to trust me. Biting my tongue, I played along with her charade. I didn't believe a word she said.

"That's okay. Don't worry about it."

"_Are you mad_?"

"No, not at all. I had a great time." I fought to keep my voice even. "Where are you?"

"_Well, I am still at work, but I am just leaving now. So, why don't you wait_?"

There was no way in hell I was leaving this place. Whoever this girl was or whoever she wasn't, I was going to find out. The lies had to stop somewhere. If not now, when?

"Yeah, I'll wait."

"_Okay, great. I'll see you soon_."

I hung up the phone and took off my coat. It was unbearable and hot in this apartment. The anticipation pushed the blood to the surface. I paced the kitchen, telling myself to relax. Walking out into the foyer, I grabbed the bag I'd brought last night by the door and took it into the living room. I sat on the sofa with the red and orange cushions and stared at the bronze ballerina.

I didn't have to wait long with my thoughts.

Approximately forty-three minutes and fifteen seconds later, she came home.

_Home. _

It felt wrong to call this apartment hers. She didn't live here. Nothing in this place represented this woman's likes or dislikes—fuck! I knew nothing about this woman to determine what her tastes were. All I knew was that everything in this room, from the carpet to the knick-knacks, shouted out to my Bella.

The front door closed, and I heard her before I saw her, those fucking boots clacking on the wooden floors. They stopped right behind me. "Hey."

"Hey." Gripping the handle of the bag in my hand, I stood up and greeted her with a forced, but convincing smile. "How are you, Bella?"

"I'm good." She approached me slowly. "I thought you be in China by now."

"Yeah, that makes two of us." I set the bag on the couch. "Sit down."

It stuck out like a sore thumb, situated ominously between us, and this Bella fidgeted with unease. "What's that?"

"It's a present." I reached in and pulled out a plain, cardboard box. It gave no hint to the shoes inside.

"For me?" She gestured to herself with surprise.

"Yeah," I said, getting down to my knees. "I saw yours were broken, so I bought you a new pair." I held up the black and red high heel. They were almost identical to the ones Bella bought three years ago. "You want to try them on?"

She stared at me like a deer caught in the headlights. "That was sweet of you." She unzipped her right boot. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I wanted to."

She lifted her foot up and I slipped the shoe on. There was a finger width space at the heel. This wasn't a revelation to me. Nothing in this apartment belonged to the woman in front of me. The shoes were no different. This was just one more breadcrumb of proof to tell me this Bella was an impostor.

"They're a little big." I looked up at her with indifference. "What size shoe do you wear?"

She hesitated for a long time, her eyes trying to read mine. Maybe she thought I'd give her a small indication, but I didn't budge. My face blank of emotion, I wanted to watch her lie to me one more time.

Finally she answered with a wince of uncertainty. "Seven."

Pulling the shoe off, there was no way to mask the smugness from my face. I fucking knew it. "These are eight and in a half's."

Now she knew.

"Well," she grabbed her boot from the floor, her demure features hard and suddenly on the defensive, "I would've told you what size I wore if I knew you were going to get me shoes."

"Don't worry about it." Packing the red and blacks back in the box and shoving them into the bag, I stood up to leave. "I can exchange them."

"You don't have to do that…"

"Look," I interrupted her, so tired of listening to her voice and the constant lies, "I told a friend I'll meet him for coffee before I left."

This caused a panic in her. "What?" She shouted after me. "You're going now?"

"Yeah," I picked up my coat from the counter and turned to walk out. She was still sitting on the couch, the confusion on her face matching my inner turmoil. I doubted she could feel as betrayed and lied to like I felt right now.

This woman played me, used my desperation for Bella, pretending to be her and for what? To watch me suffer and die a million ways in front of her? Why would she do that? Who was she really? And why was this apartment empty? Did she know where Bella went? Did she leave for good?

Not that she would ever answer me honestly, but these questions were burning me from the inside out, and I had to hold it all in. Because I knew if I didn't leave now, I might say something I'd end up regretting and I still needed her to lead me to Bella.

I just had to be patient and wait for her to make the next move.

So, I breathed in deep to quiet my anger and said this instead, "Bye."

**AN: A bonus chapter. I got canceled at work today, so this was produced during my leisure. If you're still here and haven't flounced, God bless you. This fandom is a tough crowd. No joke. See you on Monday!**

**And to my pre-reader and bestie, Brina, you're awesome! Thank you for a million lifetimes to come.**


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 19, 2014**

**11: 15 AM**

**North Kenmore, Chicago, Illinois**

Ten minutes and fourteen dollars into the taxi meter later, Bella exited her apartment and got into her silver Volvo. I paid the guy extra to follow her. He did so without question. Money was his only and main concern. But even if he did give a shit, what the hell was I supposed to tell him? From an outsider, I was fucking stalking this woman through the city. Nobody would believe my story about fraud and mistaken identity and the desperation to have that one love back that slipped away from me.

_Jesus! _

The situation was complicated and screwed up.

I didn't know what hell I was doing.

When I came to her apartment last night with the shoes, there was never a clear-cut plan. I'd been winging it all this time, letting my instincts guide me, but was that enough? Maybe I was crazy for wanting to pursue this more. I should go home or back to Emmett's. Anywhere but here in this fucking taxi cab.

But I couldn't let it go.

These questions about this woman kept rising to the surface and multiplying.

_Who was she really?_

_Why did she lie and say she lived in Bella's apartment?_

_Why did she say her name was Bella?_

_Did she know where Bella was?_

_And did she know if Bella still loved me?_

But I feared knowing the answers to these questions would be one of my life's greatest regrets.

**February 19, 2014**

**12:05 PM**

**Franklin Street, Chicago, Illinois**

The fare was over sixty dollars by the time we reached the destination. She parked her car on the street and walked/jogged the rest of the way. She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting someone to be following, and I slouched down in my seat as the taxi drove passed her.

"All right, pull over here," I told the man and paid him.

Getting out of the car, I stood back on the curb and stared across the street at the restaurant.

_Bellucci's._

This was where it all began five days ago.

I wasn't delusional. Nothing that's happened to me had been imagined. The twist and turns that led me into searching for my Bella had reached the end, but I was more confused now than when I started.

And I don't even feel like the same person anymore. The man who came here with his fiancée and her brother (my best friend) had a goal in life, a set path to follow, but it wasn't his own. He went through the motions because it was expected of him.

Just place one foot in front of the other.

It was mindless actions, but it was safe and no pain existed there.

Yesterday was a bleak time for me—no matter how brief, hell can turn a minute into eternity, and that's what it felt like.

I'd given up all hope and threw in the towel. Bella didn't exist to me. I couldn't have her. She was gone for good. That was a harsh reality to swallow, and it was one I didn't want to face. It was easier to gut myself and deny outside stimulus: Love, happiness, anger, and pain—all of it was cut off.

It was more than I could bear. But now, I decided to let it all in and fucking crush me. It was better to be alive, confused and heartbroken, than a walking zombie.

The man who entered the restaurant now, crouching behind pillars and ducking around corners, watching a different Bella from afar, by all accounts, was a crazed fucking lunatic, but he was alive. That was the one thing I knew for sure. Air went in and out of my lungs, burned and satisfied. Blood coursed through my veins and flushed my skin. My heart pounded to erratic beat.

Pain was prevalent, relentless, and excruciating, but it was real.

It was funny how so much can change in only twenty-four hours.

Bella two, or whatever the fuck her real name was, sat at a table by herself in the main dining room. She kept looking towards the door and windows. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times, smoothing down her skirt as it shifted up. An idle strand of hair was tucked relentlessly behind her ear. It would dislodge every time she heard a noise, whipping her head in that direction, and then tucking it back because it got in her face. She didn't touch the glass of water on the table, and when the waitress approached to take her order, she shook her head and smiled politely.

She was meeting someone, and my imagination went wild with all the possibilities. My Bella was on top of that list. It was clear to me that the woman sitting at the table alone was a fraud, but she was close enough to my girl to borrow her clothes, wear her perfume, and had access to her apartment.

_But what was her angle? _

Maybe she was protecting her friend from a distraught ex-boyfriend. I could accept that. It was a logical explanation. A noble one, but it wouldn't explain her willingness to claim she lived in the apartment, say her name was Bella, and then sleep with me. So what did that mean? Did she step into my girl's size eight and a halfs to con me into, what…being with her? I remember the interaction we had the next morning, the hope in her eyes, and the toast she gave.

_To us. _

There was a creepy element to the way she looked at me. I couldn't shake the icy blue of her eyes or the touch of her…

"Hey!" A strong hand came down on my shoulder and scared the living shit out of me.

"Jesus Christ!" I cursed loudly, spinning around to the source and was surprised to see Emmett grinning at me.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "I thought you were coming by."

"I was coming by," I said breathless, my heart thumping hard and loud in my ears. It discombobulated me seeing him there, and any intelligent thought came out as a lagged, jumbled mess. "Um, yeah, I just lost track of time."

"Well, I'm glad you're here, I have some good news for you," he said, and before I could form a response, he shifted gears on me and nodded towards the dining area. "Let's go have a drink. I want you to meet someone."

Hesitating, I glanced over at Bella two sitting at the table. She was going to see me walk in with Emmett and know I'd followed her here…but, wait a second—I snapped my head back over at Emmett as he waved me onward.

No, that can't be…but his timing was too impeccable.

It couldn't be her. _No, no, no_. This was not his girl. What were the chances? I looked around the dining room, searching for someone else, another woman, hoping that it was a coincidence, but there was no one.

It was just us in this restaurant.

"Come on, asshole." Emmett grabbed my arm by the fabric of my coat and forced my feet to move.

Following behind him a few steps back as he weaved in and out between tables and made his way towards her, I tried to stay hidden. I needed time to make sense of the situation, but it only managed to fuck with my head more.

She didn't see me at first. Emmett's massive frame was strategically placed in front of me and blocked her view. The smile she gave him, it wasn't a fake or manipulative, but real and honest.

It fucking pissed me off.

How can she go from pretending to be my Bella…to…this person?

"Hey, baby." Emmett bent down and kissed her. "Look who I ran into," he moved away and her eyes met mine, "it's Edward." The smug, self-satisfied grin on her face disappeared. "Edward this is Rose. Rose this is Edward."

Rose. So this was _his_ Rose, the amazing actress and the love of his life.

"Finally you two meet," Emmett said taking a seat across from her. The happiness he emulated was out of place. He had no idea who she was.

I approached the table with caution as the world and its unnecessary evils revealed itself to me. "Hi."

"Hello," she replied in a quiet, timid voice. She was busted and she knew it.

But how far did she really expect this charade of hers to go? Her boyfriend was my best friend. I was living with the guy these last few days. In her grand plan, did she think she could date us both and neither one of us would find out about it?

"Have a seat," Emmett said, and kicked the chair out to me with his foot.

Taking off my bag and coat, I sat down beside her, but she avoided my gaze at all costs. It was a chicken shit move. What a coward. At least fucking look at me. I deserved that much from her.

"Maybe we should get a cocktail," Emmett suggested as he called over the waitress. "What would you like, Eddy?"

"Vodka on the rocks," I said. "A double."

I needed something to sustain this anger of mine that was building up.

Emmett eyes widened, startled by my request. "Wow." He looked over at her. "Babe?"

She shook her head, finally taking a peek over at me, but shied away at my hostile glare.

It was comical in a way, and I would have been laughing if this shit wasn't happening to me, but it was and I was furious, hurt, and God knows what else. The funny thing about emotion was it didn't give you a reason to why only the cause.

And the cause was heartbreak, loneliness, and hatred for me, and for Rose, or whoever she pretended to be.

"All right," Emmett clapped his hands together and rubbed them with anticipation. He ordered his drink, but I was barely listening, until he addressed me directly. "So, what happened to your psycho?"

Rose flinched.

How openly was I supposed to speak about her? I wanted the answers, but doing in front of Emmett seemed inappropriate. He still believed her to be someone good. Someone she wasn't.

"You can say it in front of Rose." Emmett assured me, reaching over and grabbing her hand. She smiled weakly at him. "She knows the whole story, anyway."

This display of affection irked me. It was innocent, but out of character for Emmett. No girl has ever brought him to his knees like Rose did. He loved her, and yet he knew nothing about her or what she's done. All he seen was the actress on stage speaking her lines like she believed them. His perception was skewed and mislead by her outer and obvious beauty.

"Sometimes," I said to him, "when you see someone from afar, you develop a fantasy, and then when you see them up close, nine times out of ten you wish that you hadn't."

Emmett stared at me for a moment with a blank expression, looking back at Rose, and then me. He chuckled. "Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I was confused," I said with a depleted sigh, "so I went back to her apartment, and I thought I would find out was looking for, but I found something else."

"Did you talk with her?" Emmett asked.

"Just long enough for her to convince me that she's a liar."

"No harm, no foul there, right?"

Rose pulled away from Emmett and put her hands on her lap. I watched as she chewed her bottom lip, looking for an escape with her eyes. She was infuriating me with her silence. I was owed an explanation

"What do you think, Rose—I mean, since you know the _whole _story?" I asked, unable to keep the sarcasm and fury out of my voice.

What possessed her to pretend to be my Bella? Fuck, even that talk on the phone with her the other night where she encouraged me to go back to the apartment was brought into question. What was that about? Was she setting me up from the beginning?

That's the part I couldn't figure out.

"It's easy to stand back and judge," she said, her eyes finally settling on me. "You don't know anything about this woman."

"I know that she has no conscience or regard for anyone else but herself." I listed off on my fingers. "I mean, what else do I need to know?"

"You make yourself into such a victim, but nobody made you be with her," she shot back. "You can't even see what a hypocrite you're being."

"I'm being a hypocrite?" My memory was foggy from the alcohol, but I do remember she initiated it. She used my vulnerability and love for Bella against me—and then she fucking blames me for it.

"Yes, you are!"

"How am I being a hypocrite?" I glanced over at Emmett in disbelief. "Can you believe she's saying this shit to me?"

"Whoa, whoa," Emmett intervened, noticing the tension at the table for the first time, "you guys, just relax, all right?"

"No, Em, it's okay, hang on for a minute." I put my hand on his shoulder and dialed back my anger. Going at her with hostility wasn't the way to go about it. "Rose, I would like you to explain to me how I am being a hypocrite."

I wasn't going to call her out in front of Emmett, because he cared about her, deeply, but I wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily.

"Who's to say this _woman_ hasn't been in love with you for a really long time, and now that she found you again, she wasn't about to let you go twice."

That had nothing to do with being hypocrite. My head was spinning as I tried to piece together…but I couldn't..."What?"

"Maybe the first time she saw you—maybe she felt the same way you felt when you first saw Bella. You remember that, don't you?"

I remembered everything about that day Bella came into my life. It stopped everything. The world before her seemed colorless. Like I hadn't noticed the way the leaves turned amber and orange during the fall or how the sun turned the sky a purple and deep pink as it set in the west. Her existence changed me. There was no other person for me once I saw her and I would do everything in my power to have her in my life. No matter how minute. It wasn't a choice.

"Love makes you do crazy things—insane things. Things you would never see yourself doing in a million years. There you are doing them." Rose shrugged. "Can't help it."

I knew what she meant.

"Jesus Christ, you guys, lighten up," Emmett said. "This woman, she's a nut. She's a psycho. She's fitted for a strait jacket, all right? End of story. Can we change the subject?" He slapped my leg. "Hey, Eddy, I actually have something that will cheer you up."

Emotionally drained, I couldn't even pretend to be interested. "Yeah?"

"Did you leave a note here with a bartender a few days ago?"

"Yeah, I did—wait," I was awake and interested now, "how did you know that?"

"Because Bella called." He was grinning from ear to ear.

I blinked, not comprehending the words coming out of his mouth. "What?"

"Yeah, after we got off the phone. She called. She said to meet her at one o'clock today. She couldn't wait long because she had to get on a plane to London."

I looked down at my watch. It was 12:30 now. _Fuck_! "Where am I supposed to meet her?"

"She didn't say. She said you would know," he said, and I shook my head slowly, still so fucking confused. "You don't know?"

"I think you know _where_," Rose said quietly. "It hasn't been that long, has it?"

The park…of course, but how does she know about that place?

"You know what, I'll go ask Tony. Maybe he'll know something." Emmett got up and went to the bar.

That's when it all clicked for me. Bella was at this restaurant on Friday. Bella was the voice I heard in the phone booth. Bella broke her heel. Bella had a room at the Drake. Marcus was stalking Bella. Everything was real. All the breadcrumbs left were right and would had led me to Bella if Rose didn't show up and throw me off the trail.

She played me and I fell for it.

I was just a mouse in her maze and Bella was the fucking cheese.

Sitting back in my seat, I was able to speak freely with her now. "You knew she was here the whole time?"

Rose reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. "This belongs to you."

There was a part of me that didn't trust her, but the bigger part of me was curious. Even if it was a trick, I couldn't stop myself from wondering and holding out that last bit of hope.

She held it out to me. "It's from her."

That's all she had to say. Taking it from Rose, I was struck by the aged and wrinkled look of the envelope, like it been through three years of mishandling, but most jarring feature was my name written across the front. It was in Bella's handwriting. I would recognize that messy, slanted script anywhere. It was from her. My hands shook as I pulled the letter out. It was on a simple college ruled paper and dated April 24, 2011.

The day she left.

_Edward,_

_Please don't think that I am running away from you. I was so overwhelmed when you asked me to move in, I couldn't speak. My answer, of course, is yes. I love you and can't wait to come home._

I was breathing hard, close to hyperventilating, because my lungs were constricting and not allowing air to enter. It was maddening, making me dizzy and nauseous, and I fought back the tears. God, there was so much regret. Why didn't I wait for her? This letter proved that she loved me and wanted to be with me. All these years, if I would have stayed and talked to her…why didn't I go to Paris? Why…did I let her go?

_Fuck_!

Swallowing down all that emotion, I looked back at Rose and she had her head down. She refused to witness my heartbreak. The one she caused.

"When did she give you this?"

"The day she left," she said. "I was supposed to leave it in your apartment."

"My apartment?"

"The one on Street Paul," she explained, and a vague memory came into my head of me pulling the pictures off the wall and ripping them up. I hated that place. No wonder I forgot about it. "She gave me the key to let myself in. The plan was to leave it for you, but when I got there, Bella was leaving a message on your machine and I couldn't bear to let her have you and I—"

"No, no, no," I interrupted her. "There were no messages on my machine."

"Yes, there were," she said in a stern, even tone and looking up at me again. "She left nine for you that day. I erased them all."

"You erased…what?" Another punch in the gut. "But she never called me again. I stayed up night after fucking night staring at that phone."

"I know she didn't, and it's because…" Her voice cracked and she shook her head.

"What?" I clenched my fists, that anger and hatred for her manifesting in me again.

"I told her that when I went to deliver her note, I'd found you in bed with another woman."

"You told her…that I…fucking…" I couldn't even say the words. "I would never do that her."

"I know, I know, and she didn't want to believe me, but she did because…well, why would I lie to her about something like that?"

Three years ago and week before I saw her on that television screen, Rose and Bella were neighbors who never spoke. It took one breakup with Marcus and an open window for Bella to crawl into. They were unlikely friends. Bella graceful and self-assured. Rose, blonde at the time, shy and clumsy. But it worked, and they remained friends for all these years.

It turned out I was the problem.

Months and months before I ever knew Bella was possible, Rose saw me at Wicker Park. It was love at first sight she said. She knew where I worked and lived. She became obsessed, but never had the courage to say hello or even make a lame excuse to bump into me. It was Rose's camera that was brought into Esme's store to be fixed. She was the owner scheduled to pick it up that day.

It was a kaleidoscope of events that one couldn't happen without the other. Multiple lives interweaved and affected. How small the world really was.

And I realized if it wasn't for Rose, I would have never met Bella, but one accident doesn't excuse the pain she inflected with purpose.

"She's my friend," Rose said.

I scoffed.

"Look, I'm not going to apologize for what I've done. It's for me to live with now." She wiped the tears from her cheeks and took a steady, calming breath. "You see me for who I am."

She was a woman hid in the shadows in love with a man she didn't even know. Her fear of rejection paralyzed her. Not once did she take a leap for what she wanted. She waited and waited until it was too late. Instead of walking away and cutting her losses, she sulked and underhandedly screwed with a relationship.

"Yes, I do."

Hating her would be justified and easy, but I wasn't even mad anymore. I felt sorry for her. She was a sad and unhappy woman. There was nothing I could say or do to make her pay for the pain she caused.

The guilt alone will eat her alive.

Emmett was the one who was in danger of being hurt.

I leaned in close. "You end with him, do you hear me?"

She nodded.

Picking up my bag, I got up from my seat and breathed in the air. There was nothing left to say. My destiny was at Wicker Park waiting for me and I was late. Turning around to leave, I ran right into Emmett. He gripped my shoulders to steady us both from falling over. The happy-go lucky guy deserved a lot more in life than what he was given. A part of me wanted to tell him, but I knew it wasn't my place. She needed to fix her own mess.

"Hey, man, you're leaving?" he asked, looking back and forth between me and a visibly distraught Rose. She managed to get it together, somewhat, but her eyes were still red and puffy.

"Yeah," I said, and for the first time in three years, I gave him a real, straight to the core, genuine fucking smile, "I know where she is."

**AN: One more chapter and then it's fin! Thanks for reading.**

**And to Brina, my pre-reader and dear friend, thanks for sticking by me with this story. You rock.**


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property to the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer (and Wicker Park). No copyright infringement is intended.**

***All the mistakes are mine***

**February 19, 2014**

**12:54 PM**

**Franklin Street, Chicago, Illinois**

"Hey! Taxi!" I shouted and stepped out into the street. The car flew past me, and to add insult to injury, the tires kicked up slushy snow and drenched the front of my coat. "Come on, man."

It's been taking me forever to get a cab. Ten minutes too long. The timing was bad with the lunchtime traffic and sudden snow fall (it was a staggering fifteen degrees outside and was bound to get worse). It made getting a ride next to impossible.

This shit was the last thing I needed.

"Hey! Hey!" I threw up my hands, frustrated and panicked. I'd been running around downtown like a crazed man. "Oh, my God!"

Every time I ran to wave one down, a person was getting into it, or the driver decided they didn't need the extra tab. I pounded on their hoods as they ignored me and drove away. But I kept hollering and searching, pushing my way into the busy street, nearly getting hit by speeding cars, to flag one down.

I checked my watch. "Fuck!"

Time kept ticking away without mercy. I couldn't walk to Wicker Park from here. It was ten, maybe twelve miles, and that would take me an hour I didn't have.

What I needed was a damn taxi.

Glancing down the street, I saw one stopped on the curb and a person was getting out. There was no one around. My feet moved slow at first and then faster until I was running. This was my last chance. Bella wasn't going to wait long for me. Not for a man who cheated on her. I had to see her. She had to know the truth.

"Hey!" I yelled at them and waved. "Hold the cab!"

I wasn't even polite. Even before their last grocery bag was removed from the backseat, I was pushing the guy aside and getting into the car. They cursed and flipped me off.

"Sorry." I slammed the door in their face and tossed money at the driver. "I'm going to Wicker Park."

The entire drive through downtown and suburbia down into the Wicker Park district, I thought about all the years Bella believed a lie. I didn't know why she left or why she never called, it was a mystery to me, but I could delude myself into a dream where she still loved me.

Bella only knew one thing: the man she loved and wanted to move in with had cheated on her. The hurt and betrayal she must of felt—and still feels. It tore me apart to know her pain was caused by me. Even if it was a lie, it was real to her, and it destroyed everything we built together.

For all those years, I hated her for breaking my heart. I played the victim. Moping around and feeling sorry for myself, when I should've searched for her and asked those questions instead of accepting it.

Fighting for her and for us was the _only _option I had.

One I didn't see until it was too late.

Now I was begging for more time…

_Please, baby, just wait for me. _

**February 19, 2014**

**1:32 PM**

**Wicker Park**

**Damen Avenue, Chicago, Illinois**

The cab dropped me off at the entrance. It wasn't even fully stopped when I opened the door and got out. I jogged across the street and into the park praying that she was still here. _Frank's Chili Dogs_ was in full swing, with a small line forming, but none of the people standing there were Bella. I searched everywhere: under our canopy or the little garden she liked so much, even across the street at the coffee shop.

She wasn't here.

The sun was coming out from behind the clouds and warmed by face, but I felt cold inside. The chill of realization was bitter. My Bella was gone again. I didn't know by how long. Maybe I missed her by two minutes or twenty, fate had a horrible sense of humor, but it didn't matter. The end result was the same. She slipped out of my grasp because I couldn't get my shit together.

She trusted me to get to her, but I was late. I was always late, wasn't I? Losing track of time was part of my genetic makeup. But why did I have to be late today? Of all fucking days? Why couldn't I get my shit straight for once? Why didn't I leave the restaurant sooner? Why did I waste time with Rose looking for answers that didn't solve anything and only made shit more complicated?

It was my typical Edward Cullen bullshit.

I was a failure to her…_to us_.

Rubbing my face to dispel those thoughts of pity, I needed to think of another way to her. This door was closed, yes, that was true, but I couldn't stop looking for her. That was insanity. Give in and do what? Go back to New York with Kate? That life was over. This one, no matter how shitty, was the life I've chosen to live, and giving up on finding Bella wasn't part of the plan.

She's the woman I was meant to be with.

She always has been.

I had one more place to try.

**February 19, 2014**

**2:22 PM**

**Chicago O'Hare Airport**

**Bessie Coleman Drive, Chicago, Illinois**

The international terminal was packed. It caused anxiety, a bit of claustrophobia, but I was determined to find my girl. Pushing and zigzagging my way around people, I looked at all of their faces. No familiarity in their smiles or a hint of her perfume. Searching for her in this madness was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I couldn't keep my shit together.

_Fuck_! I spun around. _Where is she_?

It was hard to not think the worst. After years of bad luck, you tend to believe that good luck was a fairy tale. No happily ever after for the poor photographer and his lost ballerina.

_And if I lose her again_—no! That wasn't going to happen.

The overhead screen for departures showed flight 853 to London was scheduled to board in forty minutes. _There was still time_, I told myself over and over. Bella hasn't left yet. But my girl was a creature of habit. She liked to arrive early, have her coffee and listen to music while she waited to board the airplane. I just prayed that she was running late today and didn't go through TSA.

I wouldn't be able to reach her after that.

Not that I wasn't crazy enough buy a ticket to London just to get passed security, but the plane was full. That left me with Paris and Moscow, and their ticket lines were an hour long. By that time, she would be half-way over the Atlantic and I would have missed her again.

And if she leaves Chicago…I ran my hand through my hair.

Damn it, I couldn't wait anymore. It had to be today. It had to be now. There was no other way. My heart couldn't continue to take the starting and stopping. It was getting weak from the agony.

Arching my neck above the crowd, I scanned the people for the millionth time, looking at every one of their faces for something recognizable, but none of them were her. It killed a part of me with disappointment, but I didn't give up hope or the search. Knowing deep down that she was here…_somewhere_, I just had to keep looking.

Forcing my way through a heavy throng of bodies, I turned my attention towards the 'check-in' line of British Airways. Twenty minutes until the London flight boarded. I winced. It was too late. Knowing my Bella, she was sitting in a comfy chair sipping on her Chai Latte and listening to her Billie Holiday.

I smiled at the thought, but knew it was time to give in—for now.

And as I turned to leave, the sea of people in front of the line parted for me. One by one they moved right and left towards their destination, clearing away a path to a woman standing with her back towards me.

I stared, unsure if my eyes were playing tricks on me. The wave in her dark brown hair was gone and she was wearing a blue coat and black scarf—a vast contrast to bright colors to the girl I fell in love with three years ago used to wear, but something felt familiar. I knew without having to see her face that the woman, standing a mere ten feet away from me, was my Bella.

That was all it took to make my heart start again.

Taking a fast and hasty step in her direction, the people around her dissolved and she illuminated, like a bright spotlight shining down and leading me home. Nothing else mattered and I wasn't aware of the world until it appeared right in front of me.

"Hi!"

I plowed into a soft body, and it stopped my momentum at once. Holding the shoulders of this person, in hopes to not fall over, I glanced away from my Bella and was startled by the pair of all-too familiar blue eyes staring up at me.

"Kate?" It almost didn't register that she was here, but there she was, smiling and grabbing on the lapel of my coat. "Hi…" Fuck!

"There you are!" She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand. It was a loving gesture and something she'd done since our third date, but feeling it now stung. "Where have you been, baby? Your flight got in an hour ago?"

"Um…" I weaved around Kate's head to keep my eyes on Bella. Ten feet now felt like a hundred miles. If I could just get away from Kate—shit, it sounded bad, but I was too close to what I wanted. She was an obstacle, a regrettable causality. It irritated me to see her here. Why now?

"I've been down to baggage claim and back," she continued to say and oblivious to the way I was dodging her. She had me in her sights and nothing around that mattered. That's how I knew she loved me…well, not me, but a version of the man I allowed her to have.

"Kate…" I grunted out, holding back my frustrations and impatience, but she kept touching me and following me at every turn. "I, um…shit."

"What's the matter? Rough flight home?"

It was hard to keep tabs on Bella with Kate in my face. I felt suffocated and trapped by her. She blathered on and on about dresses from China. Her constant touching and yanking on my coat, a hand on my chest, slowly moving down to the buckle of my belt became too much for me.

"Kate, I…" but then it all became a nightmare when I took my eyes off Bella for one second and she disappeared.

_Where did she go?_

She was there and now…what, vanished in the crowd of nameless people? How the fuck does that happen? My body shivered with the fear that I'd missed that window of opportunity. That painful agony filled with disappointment was rising up from my stomach and my heart stopped.

_No, no, no, not again. _

"Is there something wrong, sweetie?"

"Kate…" I stopped our little dance and held her hands. The frustration of her being here and losing Bella to the crowd caused the truth to come out harsh and blunt. "I didn't go to China."

She smiled with unease. "What are you talking about?"

"I never got on the plane, okay? I just…" It was now or never. Pull the Band-Aid off quick and fast. Painless, right… "I can't marry you. It would be a huge mistake."

The color drained from her face. "You're going have to help me out, baby. Did I do something wrong?"

"No! You didn't do anything wrong…" I searched the terminal for Bella. Like a ghost, she was gone. All the years pretending to be a man I wasn't came flashing before my eyes. It was me who had always been the problem. You can't change who you are because you don't want to feel. "Look, I've been doing something wrong for the last three years. I'm not this person. I can't go back with you. I can't do this."

"What person?" Her grasps on my hands were loosening. "I don't understand what you're saying."

"When I met you three years ago, I was in love with someone else…" I glanced away from Kate to look for Bella. Every time I saw she wasn't there, my heart lodged itself deeper in my throat. The noose around my neck was getting tighter. Time vengeful and my true adversary was slipping on by with no apologies. "She just came back into my life. She broke my heart—" I stopped myself short when I saw the hurt and betrayal in her eyes. Fuck…I didn't want to do that. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, my God," she whispered, and broke away from me. She put her head in her hands and paced. "I can't believe this."

This was hard and painful, but she deserved a man that gave her his all and not just a fractured piece of himself. If I stayed with her, I would be doing us both a disservice.

"I know I am still in love with her." I crouched down to get to her eye level. There were no tears or sobbing. "I just…I just needed you to know."

"Know what?" Her voice was quiet at first and when I didn't say anything anger erupted. "Know what, Edward?! That I'm not the girl who can break your heart?"

It was a harsh reality and I couldn't deny it. She wasn't the girl. I cared for her deeply, but it wasn't enough. How many times would I lay in bed with her and wish it was?

Anything I told her now would just sound disingenuous.

"Yeah," she said with a nod, finally seeing me for who I was.

I wasn't the man she loved with the corporate suit and connections, but a man Bella loved with a camera and a two-day old shirt. I was a bum, a hack, and messy. That's who I was three years ago and who I've always been. Somewhere along the way, I'd lost myself.

And I tried to forget about Bella, and truly, meaningfully love Kate, but I couldn't allow myself to give in. Once you find the person you're meant to be with, no other person before or after that (no matter how perfect and great they are) will ever measure up.

"I'm sorry—" But I was cut off short with the flick of her hand and the sound of her heels walking away.

The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt her. She came into a disaster of a man and unfairly was set up. I tricked her in order to fool myself. There was never a happy ending for us. I knew it long before Bella came back into my life. I just refused to see it.

_Bella._

My head snapped in the direction I last saw her, but I was turned around. The conversation with Kate put me on a different path and the swarm of people was descending on me. It was confusing and disorienting. I walked towards the check-in counter and looked over multiple heads. Spinning and spinning around, I searched high and low for her.

Until a hint of blue and black came into view….and there she was.

Bella was sitting on the floor with her back facing me. I recognized the silver suitcase sitting beside her. It was the same one I bought for her. She still had it after all these years.

There was no doubt in my mind that I'd finally found my girl.

My feet weren't frozen or glued to the floor anymore. There was nothing stopping me from restarting my heart and having her. I walked one step at a time and removed the bags from my shoulders. Everything that I felt and didn't feel over the last three years was rushing to the surface. Happiness, pain, longing, and regret were halting and constricting my lungs. It was smothering me. I tried to hold back the tears, but when I fell to my knees behind her, I felt the hot trails run down my cheeks.

_Bella, I'm here_…I wanted to whisper to her, but I couldn't speak.

The loud pounding of my heart had blocked out everything but her breathing. She was perfect. I could see the slight red in her hair and smell the fragrance of her shampoo. The tremble of her hands as she pulled the phone away from her ear. She was finally here with me, and yet after years of absence, I was hesitated to touch her. Like a mirage, I feared getting to close she would disappear on me.

It was crazy, but I rather have this with her forever than tempt the kindness of fate and risk the chance of pushing it too far.

I didn't want to lose her.

_Look at me, baby…please. _

Bella's body stiffened. I didn't move. All breathing ceased. She slowly turned and her warm, striking eyes met mine. They were the same as I remembered them. It was quiet, a paused moment in time. She didn't say anything just stared up at me. There was disbelief and awe there. I could see the heartbreak in her smile.

What a beautiful girl.

She rose on her knees and rested her forehead against mine. She placed her hand on my wet cheek and breathed in deep. She was here with me. I could feel her heart beat and warmth. God, I am so fucking in love with her. My heart couldn't contain itself, bursting and igniting into flames. I burned and burned for her and no other.

And just like that, all my super human restraint went out the window and I couldn't hold back any longer. I needed to feel her and make this delusion of mine a reality.

Putting my lips to hers, I kissed her slowly, with so much longing and needing. She tasted the same, like a certain, unique sweetness that only meant home for me.

Time slipped away again. I didn't know how long I'd been kissing her, but it was never enough. When breathing became a problem, I pulled back and stared into her eyes. My hand reached up and caressed her cheek. Her skin was so soft under my fingertips and they tingled.

I missed every inch of her.

She had to know that.

_How long did we go without being complete? _

She nodded as to answer my silent question, gripping me by the collar and pulling me into a hug. She clawed the back of my coat and buried her face into my neck. I felt scorching tears hit my skin like bullets as her body shook and trembled beneath me. I held her tighter.

"Baby, don't cry," I whispered into her hair and kissed her over and over again. I couldn't stop, nor will I ever stop.

She pulled back, gazing up at me and stroking the sides of my face. There was amazement with every touch. I was real to her again. It never occurred to me that the years were equally hard on her. She had grown so much, an older more beautiful woman, but there was grief behind her eyes. She was robbed of her true love. That was the real tragedy.

I held her face in my hands. "We're okay."

"I know."

We smiled and laughed, both drenched in tears and a complete mess in a middle of the airport, but we were together.

And that's that.

***Cue credits***

**AN: Now go watch the movie. It's a good one. Thanks for reading. It's been fun.**

**To my girl, Brina, thanks for everything. **


End file.
